An Adorable Gang War (Chapter Nine Posted 1/15/23)

[TheUnknownAuthor]

I had an idea and thought it was something I hadn't seen before, let me know if I'm wrong on that being the case, but here's a story about two gangs with "interesting" names that may or may not be relevant to our interests.

 

An Adorable Gang War

By: The Unknown Author

 

One

 

“You’re on in three, two, one.” Marcus, the evening news cameraman said to the reporter he was in the field with, counting down with his fingers before pointing at her as a cue that she was live. He’d turned his faded blue baseball cap around backward to look through the eyepiece of the camera, and coupled with his well worn blue jeans and gray t-shirt with the logo of whatever had been there initially faded almost completely away over the years of wash and wear, he looked like he was going to a sporting event or moving a couch rather than working for the most reputable news channel in three counties.

 

Her heart fluttered as she gripped her microphone, “Marisol Briggs, here on the scene of what police are calling gang related vandalism.” she said, seeing the gesture from Marcus that the video package he’d shot earlier was playing. She wasn’t a tall woman, though her heels would give that impression, nor was she a thin or heavy woman, she had curves that she chose outfits to flatten or accentuate based on need, but she never went out of her way to present herself as something she wasn’t. Part Latina on her mother’s side, she had a hint of cinnamon in her skin, her ebony locks complimenting it well despite the lighting from the camera and the light attached to the building behind her.

 

“Do this.” Marcus said, making a motion with his hand for her to move her hair from in front off to the side. His trimmed mustache twinged as he performed the motion, the hint that he was keeping a smile at bay.

 

She mimicked his movement, her black flowing locks tucking behind her left ear, “Thanks.” she said politely.

 

He nodded, “Deep breath, you’re back on in five, four, three, two, one.” he said with a reassuring smile as he once again counted down his fingers for her.

 

“As you can see behind me,” she said, stepping aside and gesturing to the wall a dozen feet behind her, “this business has had its side wall vandalized, something they’ve sadly grown accustomed to since opening in ‘T2’ territory.” she explained, taking the opportunity to breathe freely once Marcus signaled that they’d gone to the interview package she’d done with the owner and his family.

 

“Fucked up, huh?” Marcus asked, looking at the graffiti behind her.

 

She nodded, looking around the parking lot nervously, “Even with all these cops here, it still feels, I don’t know, dangerous.” she admitted.

 

Marcus smiled at her, the whiteness of his teeth punctuating how dark his skin truly was. “We’re perfectly safe, I promise.” he reassured her before counting down once more.

 

“With this, the most recent in a string of crimes around the city, we’re left to wonder, when will this crime wave end?” she asked, giving a somber look to the camera, “For Nightly News, I’m Marisol Briggs, back to you, Chet.” she said, her shoulders dropping as she exhaled deeply once Marcus gave her the cue that she was off air.

 

“Not bad, new blood!” Marcus said with a broad smile as he started breaking down his camera from its tripod.

 

She returned his smile, “Yeah, my big break was a success.” she joked.

 

He snickered, “Don’t play down the fact that you just did your first live field report.” he said, “Not a lot of people can do this job.” he told her as he carried his equipment to the van and began stowing it.

 

Marisol followed him, her high heels clicking softly on the asphalt, “Wanna grab a drink to celebrate?” she asked, hoping the interest she had in him was mutual.

 

He shook his head, “Ah, I would, but I have to be up early to do B roll for the state fair thing.” he said.

 

“Burning the candle at both ends, huh?” she asked, handing him her microphone when he turned from the van.

 

He shrugged, “Bruce, the morning camera guy, had a wedding out of state he had to go to, so I offered to pick up his assignment.” he explained, “Never know when someone owing you a favor might come in handy.” he added, closing the van doors.

 

She politely nodded, a little disappointed, but fine, “Well,” she said, looking around at the nearly empty parking lot they’d parked in, “I think I’ll catch a cab or something to a bar.” she said.

 

He waved a hand dismissively, “I’ll take you.” he said.

 

Her smile returned, “You sure?” she asked.

 

He nodded, “What kind of partner would I be if I let you catch a cab in gang territory?” he asked, his tone trying to keep the mood light given her earlier concerns about safety.

 

They got into the van, him behind the wheel and her in the passenger seat and drove through the small parking lot to the adjoining street. The business they’d been reporting on was a Greek bakery in the heart of what most considered to be a “bad neighborhood”, the fact that she’d rented an apartment only eight blocks West of the market left her wondering whether she’d failed to scout the area properly before signing the lease, but she’d found her own neighborhood to be a healthy mix of backgrounds and hadn’t felt unsafe until tonight.

 

“Caplan’s isn’t far from here.” he told her as he pulled onto the street and made a left at the next intersection. “Some say they built the city around it.” he joked.

 

She politely laughed, “I’m still learning the city.” she said simply, trying her best to contribute something to the conversation.

 

He nodded, “It takes a minute, but once you find your groove you’re set.” he told her. “You live near the mall, right?” he asked.

 

She didn’t immediately answer, “Did you background check me before becoming my partner?” she teased.

 

He groaned softly, “Sorry, I didn’t even think that might be a weird thing to ask.” he said, “You don’t have to say where you live, obviously, but if you happen to be out by the mall, there’s a really good pizza place you should try,” he explained, “if you like pizza, of course.” he added after a silence began to fill the car.

 

She smiled at him while he was focusing on the road, “Chill,” she said warmly, “I do live out by the mall, and if you’re talking about “We Knead Pizza”, I am well acquainted already.” she told him, patting her belly as a way of saying she’d gotten fat because of it.

 

He smiled, “That’s the one.” he said, “I don’t know why you’re frontin’ girl, if you already have the best pizza in town in your phone then the rest is nothing.” he told her.

 

They passed another building with graffiti adorning it, “How long has the graffiti and the gangs been a problem?” she asked.

 

He was quiet for a moment, “Better part of five years.” he finally said, “The T2’s have been around since I was a kid, but since the other crew started up it’s been like a turf war kind of thing, showing out to let people know who runs things.” he explained.

 

She softly nodded, worried she was going to look foolish for not knowing much about the situation he was talking about, “What does “T2” stand for?” she asked.

 

“Terrible 2’s” he told her. “When I was a kid they were the reason our mom’s wanted us home before the street light’s came on.” he explained. “Bad kids doing bad things, making moms fear their own kids would show up at home dressing like ‘em and acting like ‘em.” he continued, “Lots of church for my generation, I can tell you that.” he added with a sort of self conscious chuckle.

 

“And the other gang?” she asked.

 

He shrugged, “The Teethers seem worse,” he said, “or as bad but in a different way, I don’t really know to be honest, the older I get the more distance I put between me and knowing what’s really going on on the streets, y’know?.” he said as he pulled into the parking lot behind the bar he’d told her about.

 

Caplan’s was a squat little building seeming to nest in and among more dumpsters than anything else. A coat of paint and an updated look might just make the fossil of a building a real piece of crap, a better standing than it currently had in Marisol’s opinion.

 

“Thanks for the lift, Marcus.” she said politely, flashing him a smile to cover her apprehension at merely entering the bar let alone drinking in it.

 

He nodded, “Anytime, Marisol.” he said. “Oh,” he said as she opened the door and stepped out, “if the bartender is a gruff looking old guy, his name is Don and he’ll set you up with a ride home, tell him you work with me and he’ll take care of you.” he explained.

 

She smiled again and bowed her head in appreciation, “Thanks again, partner.” she said, giving a little wave as she closed the door and made her way to the front door of the bar as the van pulled away.

 

The bar was as bad inside as it was outside, stools patched with duct tape, a jukebox with a yellowed with age “Out of Order” sign taped to its front, lights in each corner not lit or flickering their last dying wish to end their miserable existence. She briefly wondered if she shouldn’t just forget the drink altogether and go home, but she wanted to celebrate her achievement, so she walked up to the bar and smiled at the “Don” Marcus had mentioned.

 

“What can I getchya?” the sour looking man grumbled. Don obviously cut his own hair, wisps of wiry white sticking above their shorter brethren, his push broom mustache bristling when he talked and the deep wrinkles in his forehead and face making him look like a roadmap had come to life and set out to pursue its dream of dying in a rundown bar.

 

She sat on the stool in front of him, the legs wobbling uncertainly beneath her and the ratty cushion expelling a whine of protest at having to support something heavier than dust, and smiled, “Whiskey sour, three cherries.” she politely responded.

 

Don nodded and turned to prepare her drink, his fire hydrant build making him look like he was perpetually ready to fight something, and the muscles beneath his shirt suggested he could back up anything he threatened to do.

 

Looking around, she was surprised at how empty the bar was for a Friday night, “Slow night?” she asked.

 

Don shrugged, “Flashier places draw more flies.” he grumbled. “One or two customers every few hours keeps the lights on.” he said simply.

 

She nodded softly, concerned she might annoy the man if she pressed on with conversation, “Umm, Marcus told me to tell you that I work with him.” she said.

 

Don turned around with her drink and set it on the bar, “You the new reporter?” he asked as he picked up another glass and poured himself a drink.

 

She smiled and cheered her glass in the air, “That’s me.” she said before taking a sip of the stronger than expected drink, “Marisol Briggs, ace reporter!” she joked.

 

“How’s our fair city treating you so far?” Don asked, his grumble fading to something resembling actual politeness.

 

She shrugged, “Fine so far, I guess.” she said simply.

 

Don nodded and downed his drink, “Marcus said something about you being a small town hotshot reporter or something?” he said, his tone making it sound vaguely like a question.

 

She sipped her drink and snorted, “Ooh yeah, I covered many pie eating contest and late fee forgiveness drive at the local library.” she said with a chuckle.]

 

Don let a smile slip, “Don’t diminish your achievements like that.” he said, “You did something right to make it on the big city news team.” he added.

 

She allowed herself to smile back, “I’m a young and not entirely unattractive woman, I’m pretty sure that’s all I needed to qualify.” she joked.

 

Don shrugged, “Well, whatever brought you here, I hope you do well.” he said, rinsing his glass out and returning it to the space beneath the bar where he’d gotten it.

 

She let the conversation pass into memory, the squeak of the ceiling fan providing the missing ingredient to perfect the ambiance in the bar. “Any gang problems in this part of town?” she asked, changing the subject to something that might help her with work but also get away from the subject of her and her curiosity about Marcus talking so much about her.

 

Don shook his head, “Punks know better than to come around my bar.” he said, “Least they did.” he added with an annoyed grunt.

 

She smirked and sipped her drink, “A lesson you taught them?” she asked.

 

He nodded, “Few months back I got a few of their kind in here, almost kicked ‘em out on sight for the way they were dressed, but then I figured they were with one of the gangs and just kept an eye on ‘em.” he explained.

 

“They try anything?” she asked.

 

Don scoffed, “Tried to get me to come from behind the bar so they could rob me, you know the drill, one makes a scene or a mess and while the unsuspecting shopkeep is busy dealing with it another one with sticky fingers swipes the till.” he explained.

 

She took a bigger sip of her drink, “I take it they didn’t do well then?” she asked.

 

He smirked, “You gotta understand something about their generation,” he paused, “well, you’re generation, I suppose,” he corrected, “they don’t wanna put in the work for anything.” he told her. “You got a good job and a good head on your shoulders, I can tell, so this ain’t about you, but these kids today, they want mommy and daddy to pay their way so they can live at home until the parents die and they inherit the house.” he explained.

 

She chuckled, “I’m a twin, and my brother still lives with our parents, so I totally understand.” she said, sighing at the thought of her brother, “It’s like there’s this lapse in adulthood and responsibility that so many people my age share.” she said, “Like, if they could they’d still be watching Saturday morning cartoons in their pajamas or something.” she added with another chuckle imagining her brother on his belly kicking his pajama encased feet behind him.

 

He nodded and pointed a thick finger in her direction, “Exactly.” he said, “These gangs are nothing but a buncha brats that refuse to grow up.” he said resentfully, “Another ‘Nam would do wonders for ‘em.” he added, showing his age.

 

She finished her drink and reached into her purse for her wallet.

 

Don waved his hand dismissively, “It’s on the house, Nightly News.” he said, a genuinely warm smile beneath his mustache.

 

She smiled back and raised an eyebrow, “What about keeping the lights on?” she asked.

 

He shrugged, “As long as one is working we’re good.” he said.

 

“Well, thank you for the drink, Don, I think this is going to be my regular watering hole.” she said, the strength of her drink making a giggle rise in her throat.

 

He nodded, “Sit tight and I’ll get you a cab, okay?” he said.

 

She nodded and blinked slowly, “You have a restroom, Don?” she asked.

 

“Ladies is on the left past the dartboard.” he told her as he picked up a rotary phone from beneath the bar.

 

Sliding off her stool, she clicked her way to the bathroom, wobbling slightly as she reached the door and leaned against it to enter, the overhead light dimly springing to life as she found the switch. She sighed at the sight of the bathroom, unclean would be too generous a term for it, but she needed to pee and it, amazingly, wasn’t the grossest bathroom she’d ever been in, an Arby’s she’d stopped at on her way moving out here would always hold that crown, at least she hoped she’d never find a place worse.

 

Shimmying her dress up to her waist, she made a crown of toilet paper on the seat and leaned against the tank as she hovered to do her business, reading the writing on the wall beside and in front of her in a hushed whisper, giggling to herself at the more racy writings before she flushed with a tap of her shoe on the handle and fixed her panties and skirt before checking her appearance in the mirror.

 

When she returned, Don was wiping down the surface of the bar, “Cab should be here in just a minute.” he said, “My cousin owns it, so your ride is free too.” he added.

 

She curtsied, and hated herself for choosing to do so, “Thank you again, my good man.” she said in some kind of accent she’d tried for and changed to another midway through.

 

Don smiled at her, “I’ll go a little easier on the drinks next time.” he said.

 

She giggled, “Is it that obvious?” she asked.

 

He nodded, “I’d ditch the heels before you hurt yourself.” he said, noticing her light sway as she stood at the end of the bar.

 

She looked down at her feet, bracing herself on the bar when she started to tip forward and looked back up at him with a pout, “My pantyhose will rip.” she said glumly.

 

Don nodded and walked toward her, lifting the hinged end of the bar and coming up beside her with a crooked arm for her to entwine hers in.

 

She smiled at him and clumsily snaked her arm into the opening he’d left and felt immediately more stable when his strong arm tightened around hers. “You’re a class act, Don.” she quietly slurred as they started walking and she rested her head on his bicep.

 

They exited the bar and made their way to the cab pulling into the lot, Don doing most of the moving for the two of them as he reached out and opened the back door for her and helped her in, guarding her head and protecting her modesty when her dress threatened to ride up.

 

“Where we headin’, Miss?” the cabby asked.

 

She closed her eyes for a moment, “1612 Ashm-” she burst into a fit of giggles, “That’s my OLD house!” she too loudly exclaimed.

 

Don and the cabby exchanged glances, “You change your address on your license?” Don asked her.

 

She turned and looked up at him, nodding softly but doing little else than stare at him.

 

Don sighed softly and opened her purse for her and puled out her wallet and gave it a look, “2165 West Elm, apartment 2F.” he read to the cabby.

 

The cabby nodded his understanding and put the address into his GPS.

 

“You’re gonna help her get to her front door safe and if anything happens to her after I shut this door, your boss and I are taking it outta your ass, understood?” Don asked the cabby.

 

The cabby nervously nodded, “Yeah, no worries, mister, I got it.” he agreed.

 

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Marisol.” Don said as he stepped back and place his hand on the door.

 

She waved awkwardly, her hand flopping as if her bones had melted, “I love you, Don.” she slurred, giggling once more as the door closed.

 

“Lightweight and a heavy pour.” Don chuckled to himself as he headed back to the bar.

 

True to his word, the cabby got Marisol home safe and all but carried her to her apartment, the drive having lulled her nearly to sleep. He’d unlocked the door for her and guided her inside before closing the door and waiting for the sound of her deadbolt locking behind her, something he’d reminded her repeatedly to do.

 

Her shoes slipped off and she wobbled through her living room and to her bedroom where she made a weak attempt to undress before falling over onto her bed in a fit of giggles before the softness of the mattress dragged her into a deep and restful sleep.

 

To Be Continued...

 

[TheUnknownAuthor]

Two

 

Marisol’s apartment was nothing spectacular, she’d erred on the side of caution and gone with something she could still afford if things didn’t work out with her reporting career despite her mother’s numerous mentions of her being able to return home if things went poorly for her in the big city. Marisol had inwardly shuddered when her mother had promised to keep her room set up for her, knowing that nothing in its style or decor had changed much since her quinceañera as she’d been too busy focusing on her academics to worry about how much pink and cute made up of her room’s palette.

 

Her bedroom was little more than a bed, a nightstand with lamp, and a secondhand dresser she’d found at a yard sale the day after she’d moved in, a battered seafoam colored piece that stuck when she tried to close the top drawer and required a pact with the devil to open the bottom drawer. She’d put up some of her things she’d brought from home, a ballerina music box her Abuela had given her when she was four, a few trophies from her debate team wins, the kinds of things she’d hide if she had someone sleep over, but that gave her comfort when a police siren passed by her apartment late at night.

 

The living room was similarly sparse, her parents had given her their old couch, a dark brown, overstuffed leather affair with small rips from dog toenails on a few of the cushions and ass grooves from years of regular use, she’d never admit it, but she felt safer in her father’s ass groove and nested in it with her legs crossed when she found time to watch television. The coffee table was the same color as her dresser, and equally worn, and the television her parents had also given her sat on a stack of phone books she’d found in the hall closet when she’d moved in.

 

The apartment wasn’t big by any means, but it was enough for her and that’s all she needed at the moment. Much to her mother’s chagrin, she wasn’t a cook, hence the pizza boxes on the kitchen counter waiting to be thrown out, but once she got more settled and had a better idea of what her finances would be, she did plan to make herself dinner on occasion.

 

When her alarm started going off she was practically falling off the end of the bed where she’d passed out the night before, her protest a thick, gravelly groan as she blindly fumbled through her nearby purse for her phone and, after half a dozen attempts, managed to silence the tinkling harps of her alarm of choice. Like a dragon eyeing its hoard of gold, one eye slitted open and then closed with another anguished groan as the light stabbed her already throbbing head.

 

Her mother never liked it when she got drunk, which wasn’t as often as her mother made it seem, but she’d been on the receiving end of several impossibly fast to follow given her hungover state lectures in Spanish about the dangers of becoming an alcoholic. The silence of her bedroom brought a sigh of contentment from her though, the realization that she’d be hearing no lectures this morning as she rolled over and sat up slowly, her equilibrium rebooting as she held her pounding head.

 

As much as she hated her mother’s lectures about drinking, she was at least grateful she wasn’t like her brother, which, as a twin, was a rare thing to be able to say. Humberto drank more than she did, partied harder than she did, and made far greater an ass of himself than she did, to the point that while she would be downing Tylenol and making herself coffee, he’d be gathering up his sheets to throw in the wash because he’d pissed the bed after a night of partying. A part of her always knew before she saw him shamefully trudging through the kitchen to the laundry room that he’d wet the bed, twin magic being what it was, she’d have this unshakable feeling of embarrassment, like when you’re not sure that your skirt has managed to get tucked up into your panties, but you can hear snickering behind you.

 

Their father didn’t approve of drinking, and subscribed to the belief that his kids should be made to feel the pain of a hangover by being woken up to him mowing the lawn outside their window, or, in Humberto’s case, being mocked openly for having wet the bed. She remembered thinking it was funny when they were teens that had secretly imbibed the Devil’s water and her father would make jabs about getting her brother some diapers, but as they got older and she toned her drinking down and focused on making something of herself, Humberto remained that teenage boy with a bundle of wet sheets, until their dad actually did get him diapers.

 

Finally rising to her feet, she steadied herself and stripped out of the clothes she’d passed out in, sighing with relief as her bra came off, the indent her underwire had left gently massaged as she pouted at the discarded garment. She was, she thought as she looked in the mirrored doors of her closet, quite pretty, she had a little extra in the middle and backside, and less than she’d like in the chest, but the total package was well proportioned. She trudged to the bathroom to shower, relieving her aching bladder as the water cascaded over her, and thought about Humberto’s fate as she washed the fog from her head.

 

Humberto wasn’t a big guy, nor was he strong, following the path of the home body, he spent most of his time parked on the couch watching television or playing video games. So it was, that when their father had made good on his threat to get his son diapers to curb his drunken accidents, Humberto’s fight was short and pointless when their father, a man that worked with his hands and was, in his own words, a “real man”, hefted her brother across his lap like a child and spanked the fight out of him like he’d done when they were growing up. She’d of course watched through the crack in the door, a small sense of satisfaction in seeing her immature brother reduced to tears as he futilely kicked his legs and cursed their father out until his words devolved into humiliated sobs as he agreed to wear the diapers and begged for their father to stop spanking him.

 

In the great debate of why her generation seemed to be unable or unwilling to grow up, particularly in the males, she felt that her brother was a prime example of outside stimuli being a key factor. Was Humberto immature and not inclined to make something of himself before their father had spanked him and their mother was tasked with diapering him before bed? Absolutely, but did those things play a key part in him slipping further into regressive tendencies? Also, yes. Rather than giving up drinking and avoiding having the accidents that required his overnight protection, Humberto simply accepted that he wore diapers to bed now, and continued to behave as though nothing had happened. As time went on, he would remain in his soaked overnight diaper for longer after waking up, their mother finally stepping in to remove his diaper each morning and send him to shower.

 

This was the period where the differences in the twins became the most noticeable, Marisol applied herself at school and toned down her partying so she could get a good career and move out to be a strong independent woman. Humberto, on the other hand, did manage to curb his partying, but still presented himself nightly for their mother to diaper him and still, without drinking the night before, woke up wet the following morning. While she went to work her internship at the local news station, Humberto was having his diaper removed for him with the promise that their mother would have his breakfast ready when her got out of the shower.

 

Their father had stepped in to try and make Humberto’s situation as undesirable as possible, to force his son to grow up by shaming and teasing him, but their mother had grown to like having at least one of her children somewhat reliant on her, and the end result was Humberto’s status being brought down to something more akin to that of a young child. With no job prospects or academic pursuits, Humberto was given chores to do around the house, nothing too taxing, just light cleaning or lawn work, but their mother often helped him with his chores which turned into him basically watching her do them as she praised him for “helping”.

 

By the time Marisol was graduating college, Humberto was more her little brother than her twin, and he’d long since stopped showing signs of embarrassment when she’d tousle his hair and call him “baby brother” or something similar. With school done, she’d been at home more often, and had gotten to see just how far her brother had fallen firsthand, something that she’d found comical at first, then disturbing, but then oddly curious.

 

Humberto’s room had become something more like it had been when they were kids, his video games and collectibles the least juvenile thing in the room now that their father, at the request of their mother, had built a changing table that sat adjacent to the bed, the argument being that it was far easier to change Humberto while standing rather than sitting on the bed or floor. His bedding had returned to superhero sheets or similarly childish themes, the plastic sheet beneath crackling loudly with even the smallest pressure on its surface. She avoided his room after the first time stepping into it after returning home from college, the smell of baby powder mixed with sweat and semen and urine was something she found disgusting, but everyone else seemed to have adjusted to.

 

When she’d be in her room looking for jobs or apartments, she’d hear their mother singing lullabies to Humberto through the wall, the sounds of the tapes on his diaper being ripped making her lose focus on her adult task to eavesdrop on the infantile sounds next door. She imagined her brother on his changing table sucking his thumb or a pacifier while their mother dutifully wiped and powdered him before taping on his diaper and getting him into his pajamas for the night. She’d initially giggled at the thought, then shuddered, but gradually she became more fascinated with the mental image, expanding the scenario beyond just the moment and on to the day after, images of Humberto being fed in a highchair or playing with plush toys in a playpen in the living room becoming more and more frequent in her mind.

 

The days leading up to her moving out had been strange, her mother had been upset, obviously, but she’d also seen something in her that let her know that she would be fine because she had Humberto still. The sentiment didn’t seem to have an expiration date, her mother didn’t seem to be pushing aside a future worry of losing Humberto to a job in the city or a wife down the line, it seemed more like her mother had a toddler with decades to dote on him and have him as her baby rather than a son the same age as her daughter that was leaving the nest. Humberto had become very sweet to her in her time back at home, his treatment having smoothed out the edges of his personality quite nicely, she thought when he’d actually started crying and hugged her tightly, begging her not to leave when she’d made her announcement.

 

As she blow dried her hair, sitting on the lip of her tub, she wondered if her baby brother was being woken up by their mother at that very moment, toddling over to the changing table and obediently climbing onto it while his mommy gathered up his changing supplies. She chewed her lip as she imagined a fresh diaper replacing the wet one rather than his usual big boy underpants, her brother putting up no resistance to reaching a major milestone in his regression. She shook the thought away, concerned with how not creeped out by it she was and went to get dressed for the day.

 

*********

 

Dressed for a morning at home, one of her father’s old t-shirts concealing her decision to forego undergarments of any kind as it came to an end mid thigh, she settled down onto the couch with her coffee cup and went through her texts and emails as she sipped the black, life giving nectar in her mug.

 

Her mother and father had both texted her to let her know they’d seen her report and were very proud of her, complimenting her on how beautiful she looked and what a wonderful job she’d done. Various friends and family members had done the same but with less fervor, leaving her feeling accomplished and wearing an indelible smile for the better part of an hour until her phone started ringing and her mother’s name came up on the screen with the alert that she was requesting a video call.

 

“Hola, mami.” she said with a warm smile as she accepted the call.

 

Her mother beamed at her, “Ah, Marisol, you’re a star now, eh?” her mother laughingly said.

 

She waved her hand dismissively, “No, just another reporter.” she told her mother.

 

There was a clattering from somewhere else in the house and her mother sighed, “’Berto, come and say hello to your sister!” she called out, half turned to project her voice toward wherever Humberto was in the house.

 

Marisol heard him before she saw him, the familiar rustling of the plastic exterior of his nighttime underwear making his presence known as her waddled into view sheepishly. She tried not to react, but she knew her eyes were wider and could feel the smile spreading across her lips as she looked at her brother over their mother’s shoulder.

 

Their mother turned and waved him over, “Don’t be shy, niño.” she reassured him.

 

Her brother cast his gaze down at the floor and obeyed the command, coming up to his mother’s side and getting a kiss on the cheek for being a good listener.

 

“Say ‘hello, ‘Berto.” their mother urged.

 

He waved at the phone, his gaze never quite meeting hers, “Hi.” he said softly.

 

Marisol felt a twinge of power, a long dormant sibling rivalry kind of feeling that came from her brother getting into trouble while she was praised, the kind of feeling she’d get when he was sent to bed early and she got to stay up when they were younger. She wanted to fight the urge to tease him, but something deep inside her wouldn’t allow the opportunity to pass her by, “Hi, baby brother!” she cooed, wiggling her fingers in a cute little wave.

 

Humberto squirmed where he stood and chewed his bottom lip.

 

Their mother sighed, “Honestly, I don’t know what to do with this boy, Marisol.” she said.

 

Marisol’s smile grew, “Are you being a naughty boy for Mommy and Daddy?” she asked her brother, expecting her mother to chide her for teasing him.

 

“No,” her mother said, reaching up to run her fingers through her son’s hair, “he’s just,” she hesitated, looking at her son from the corner of her eye, “not trying to be like you.” she said, navigating her words as diplomatically as possible.

 

Marisol nodded, her brother’s blue and red Spider-Man t-shirt and jean shorts making him look years younger even if the obvious rustling beneath said shorts indicated he was diapered during the day now, “He looks like he’s trying to be his three year old self.” she teased, noticing little in the way of a reaction from her brother.

 

Her mother nodded, “That’s what I mean.” she said, “After you moved out he started acting like a pouty little kid and complaining that he missed his big sister.” she explained.

 

Marisol smirked, “Aww, does ‘Berto miss his big sister Mari?” she cooed to him.

 

Humberto was silent but softly nodded his head as he continued to chew his bottom lip.

 

“Siéntate, niño.” their mother gently commanded, lightly tugging her son’s hand to bring him to a seat on the floor beside the couch.

 

Without a word, her brother lowered himself to the floor and sat beside their mother with more crinkling from beneath his shorts.

 

Marisol suppressed the laugh welling up in her, “I’ve only been gone for two weeks, ‘Berto!” she playfully chided her now much younger seeming twin brother, the similarities in their appearance giving her a weird feeling that she was witnessing a version of herself regressing, but she batted that thought away.

 

Her mother sighed once more and stroked her son’s hair, “He cried all day after you left and refused to leave his room, even for the toilet!” she explained in exasperation.

 

Marisol snickered, “I noticed he was a lot noisier when he walked.” she said.

 

Her mother nodded, “He didn’t even argue when your father threatened to make him wear diapers during the day.” she said.

 

Something in her mother’s tone and the way she was lovingly stroking her brother’s hair as he sat beside her on the floor made her believe that she wasn’t as upset about the situation as she was claiming to be, but Humberto wasn’t putting up a fight, so she didn’t feel any need to do so on his behalf.

 

“Since then, he’s been like this, sticking close to me and acting like a little boy.” her mother explained.

 

Marisol listened and nodded, finding herself staring at her brother, “You could always just kick him out.” she said, “Force him to grow up.” she added.

 

Both her brother and mother shared the same look of worry and alarm, “He’s struggling, Mari, what kind of mother would I be if I didn’t help him?” her mother asked.

 

Marisol rolled her eyes, “So you’re happy changing your adult son’s diapers all day and night?” she asked.

 

Her mother looked at her brother and pulled him closer to kiss the top of his head, “I’d do anything for my children, Marisol, you know that.” she said after letting her son go.

 

“I’m sure dad shares your ideals.” Marisol sarcastically mused.

 

Her mother shrugged, “All he has to do is build some furniture every now and then and make sure the bills are paid.” she said.

 

Marisol snickered, “Is baby ‘Berto getting a crib to go with his changing table?” she teased.

 

Her mother was silent for a moment, “Your father and I agree that if ‘Berto is going to act like a baby, he might as well have a nursery.” she finally said.

 

The laugh she’d been suppressing erupted from her, startling both her mother and brother, “I was joking, mom, Jesus Christ!” she exclaimed.

 

“Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain, Mari.” her mother chided.

 

Marisol sighed, “Sorry, but, c’mon, you’re actually going to turn his room into a nursery and indulge this regressive bullshit?” she asked incredulously.

 

Her mother nodded, “I am, and I don’t need any judgment from you about it.” she said simply, “I’m still your mother, Marisol, show some respect.” she added.

 

Another sigh, “I’m sorry, mom, it’s just really weird.” Marisol said.

 

They continued to talk for another half hour about her job and apartment, leaving her brother out of the conversation entirely as he sat beside their mother on the floor like a child, Marisol’s attention wandering to him periodically, marveling at how much smaller and younger he looked in comparison to her own mature self image.

 

Her mother groaned softly and waved her hand in front of her face, “Sorry, sweetie, ‘Berto needs a change.” she said with a grimace.

 

Marisol looked at him in disbelief, “No.” she said softly.

 

Her mother nodded, “You’re still coming home for your birthday, right?” she asked, rising from the couch and holding out her hand for her brother to take so he could stand up.

 

Her mind was reeling at the realization that her brother had messed his diaper while he was sitting on the floor beside their mother and hadn’t given any indication he was doing so or that he was ashamed or uncomfortable with the end result, “Yeah.” she said distantly, shaking her head to knock the thoughts she was having away.

 

Her mother smiled at her, “Good!” she chirped, “Don’t forget to bring a present for your brother.” she reminded. “Say ‘bye bye’, ‘Berto.” she urged her son.

 

Her brother sheepishly waved goodbye, “Bye, Mari.” he said, his voice so much smaller than she was used to.

 

After her mother hung up the phone she sat in stunned silence for a long while at what she’d just seen, her brother had turned into a complete baby in two weeks and her mom was totally fine with it. She set down her phone and massaged the building headache in her temples, “Not looking forward to seeing that in person.” she thought to herself.

 

*********

 

Spurred by her brother’s behavior, she dressed and decided to get her grocery shopping out of the way before work, taking a cab to where she’d left her car at the TV station and heading back to her neighborhood to the grocery store a few blocks from her apartment.

 

The local grocery store wasn’t huge or fancy, but would serve her needs just fine and she set her purse into the seat of the cart and looped the safety belt around the handle of her purse before clipping the clasp of the belt to secure it from anyone that may run by and try and steal it, a habit she’d picked up from years of shopping with her mother. As she pushed her cart down the aisles and looked at her list she thought of her brother, imagining him sitting in the basket of a cart like the one she was pushing while her mother shopped, her imagination going too far as she imagined herself in the seat portion of the cart and quickly stopped that line of thought just as she ran into something in front of her.

 

“OW!” a woman’s voice exclaimed.

 

Marisol looked up in surprise, “I’m so-” she started to say until her brain registered what her eyes were seeing.

 

The woman she’d hit was wearing a pastel pink belly shirt, her exposed navel adorned with a little ring with a charm attached, something Marisol couldn’t identify with the girl moving and the distance from her. The shirt had the “Cinderella” on it mid twirl or dance or whatever Cinderella was known for, Marisol honestly didn’t know, and hugged the girl’s tiny breasts tightly. Beneath the belly shirt was a pair of stretch shorts in powder blue straining to contain the massive bulk of a lavender colored diaper that shown above the waistband of the shorts with no shirt to cover it. The woman was wearing pink Velcro shoes that squeaked when she stepped, which she did to scurry to the other woman she was with, throwing her arms around her waist and burying her face into her chest.

 

“sorry.” Marisol finally managed to say as she struggled to process what she was seeing.

 

The other woman was similarly dressed as her companion but with a yellow belly shirt, her larger breasts making Belle’s face look comically too large, her own Velcro shoes were the same powder blue as her shorter companion, and her stretch shorts were purple with yellow stars on them and her equally bulgy diaper was pink instead of lavender, “Watch where you’re going!” the woman hissed as she consoled the crying girl that was hugging her.

 

“I was somewhere else completely.” Marisol said, “I didn’t see her, is she okay?” she asked, not believing for a second she’d actually hurt the woman more than startled her.

 

The taller woman pulled her companion from her and lifted the girl’s chin, “You okay, doll?” she asked the smaller woman.

 

The crocodile tears rolled down the smaller woman’s cheeks as she nodded, “She hit my ankle.” she whined with an exaggerated sniffle.

 

“Apologize.” the taller woman commanded as she looked at Marisol intently.

 

Marisol found it odd that she was intimidated by a woman dressed like an overgrown toddler, but assumed the pair was crazy and complied with the request, “I’m very sorry I hit your ankle.” she said to the smaller girl.

 

The woman nodded, “Apology accepted.” she said with another sniffle.

 

Putting her arm around her smaller companion’s waist, the taller woman started to leave, “Eyes on the road from now on.” she warned Marisol, pointing her fingers to her eyes and then at Marisol to indicate she was watching her.

 

Marisol breathed a sigh of relief once they were gone, “Jesus.” she mumbled to herself, eager to get back home and away from whatever insanity was going on in the world now.

 

When she left the store with her groceries, she saw the smaller woman sitting in the cartoon car bolted to the ground out front of the store, the smiling vehicle whirring loudly as it played a jaunty tune and rocked forward and back with the woman inside giggling and clapping her hands, a pacifier now clenched between her teeth.

 

“Eyes on the rode, Chica.” the taller woman warned from her spot leaned against the pillar near her companion.

 

Marisol swallowed hard and nodded as she put her head down and started toward her car only to be stopped by the taller woman’s hand on the front of her cart, bringing her attention back to the woman.

 

“I know you?” the taller woman asked.

 

Marisol shook her head vehemently.

 

“She’s da news lady!” the smaller woman chirped.

 

The taller woman nodded, a smile forming on her lips, “Yeah.” she said, “Saw you on the news last night.” she added. “Talking about the T2’s like you know something or something.” she said as she moved from the pillar to the front of Marisol’s cart, her hands resting on it as she leaned forward and scanned the bags inside.

 

“I was just doing my job.” Marisol said, “I don’t know anything about the T2’s or-” she started to say.

 

The taller woman lifted and slammed the front end of the cart down, “Don’t!” she exclaimed, making Marisol jump, “Speak. The. Name.” the woman continued as she moved around the cart to beside Marisol, “Of those stinky, little, brats.” she hissed into Marisol’s ear.

 

Marisol was shaking with fear as the woman sniffed her hair and scoffed, “No more tears smells better than whatever you got in your hair, sweetie.” she sneered as she went to her smaller companion and helped her out of the car, taking her by the hand.

 

“Bye, news lady!” the smaller girl said happily with a wave as the pair turned and walked away.

 

Marisol remained frozen until they rounded the corner and then made a mad dash to her car, throwing her groceries into the trunk before getting in and locking the door, her heart racing and her breath coming out in panicked heaves. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the headrest, the dampness between her legs confirming her suspicion that her bladder had dribbled a little when the taller woman had slammed her cart angrily, she saw the pair of them in her mind’s eye, every detail emblazoned on her memory and decided she needed to ask Marcus some questions to understand just what the hell the deal with the women was.

 

To Be Continued...

[BabyGabrial]

I'm honestly way more interested in Humberto's story than Mari's.

[TheUnknownAuthor]

4 hours ago, BabyGabrial said:

I'm honestly way more interested in Humberto's story than Mari's.

[Flyingsquirrel]

I feel like I'm learning Spanish by reading lol 

[TheUnknownAuthor]

On 9/19/2022 at 12:16 AM, Flyingsquirrel said:

I feel like I'm learning Spanish by reading lol 

Three years of Spanish 1 in high school in a state known for being predominantly bilingual makes me uniquely able to not teach anyone jack shit about Spanish but pretend I know what I'm doing.

 

Three

 

If there was one thing in this life that Marisol hated, it was wet pants and the knowledge that said pants were wet because she’d lost control. The feeling of wet denim clinging to her thighs and butt as she scurried from her car, bags of groceries in hand, brought every incident of her bladder control betraying her to the forefront of her mind. Somehow, despite, objectively, being a trivial accident, and one that had truly not been her fault, she set the groceries down on her kitchen counter not as the smart and capable independent young woman living on her own, but as a younger version of herself looking around corners for her mother and father, praying that she’d be able to change and get her wet things into the wash without them discovering her failure.

 

Obviously, Marisol had had accidents when she was very young, those weren’t the moments that stuck with her, those were the moments that her mother recalled at family gatherings when one of her younger extended family members or acquaintances suddenly required a change of pants, tales of both her and her brother being slow to toilet train resulting in a seemingly endless supply of stories that were always different but had the same blush inducing end result. These were her mother’s recollections though, so she was more easily able to dismiss them as something that may or may not have actually happened. The memories that she had, the one’s that she always hoped wouldn’t be mentioned by her mother in mixed company were just as numerous in her mind, but thankfully hadn’t found their way into her mother’s narration rotation.

 

She and Humberto were six when they took the train to visit their grandparents, the first time she recalled being on a train despite knowing now that they’d made the trip almost yearly until her grandparents had passed when she was eleven. The high backed seats allowed her to peek behind her at people sitting in their own seats or moving in the aisles, and she envisioned herself a sneaky spy monitoring the other passengers for signs of nefarious activity. Humberto had fallen asleep on their mother’s lap across from her, and she remembered not wanting to look at him because he was sucking his thumb like a dumb baby but when she had looked at him she’d seen herself in him, the curse of being twins, and she didn’t want their father to pull her onto his lap so she could nap like him.

 

Her spy game went on for the better part of an hour, and she’d shifted targets a dozen times in that space, settling on a handsome man her father’s age. He wore a dark blue suit and a lavender tie, his goatee trimmed short, his chocolate colored eyes looking up from his paper to catch her gaze sending her back behind her seat, a giddy smile creeping across her lips as her heart raced at being seen. The spy game turned into something more akin to peekaboo, her poking her head out to see him once again reading his paper only to look up at her and send her back to her hiding position until she went to poke her head out and found he’d switched seats on her and was directly behind her and was also peeking around his seat so that she was suddenly face to face with him and screamed and leapt backward, falling hard on her bottom on the floor of the train, the shock and sudden impact bringing tears to her eyes as the warm liquid from within her trailed out along the floor. Whether it was the impact on her butt, the surprise she’d gotten from her fellow peeker, the feeling of her bladder emptying into her panties, or the sight of the little stream of liquid flowing from her down below her seat to points unknown that caused her to devolve into wails and tears, she couldn’t be sure, but she knew that her father picking her up and discovering her accident and sighing disappointingly was the thing that brought her thumb to her mouth for comfort, making her just as much a baby in that moment as she’d seen Humberto as, more so given that he had dry pants and she didn’t.

 

With the grocery’s put away, Marisol, still seeing herself as the little girl on the train being carried to the restroom by her father to clean up and change her clothes, stripped herself in her bedroom and examined the damage she’d done. The wet spot in her gray panties was slightly larger than a half dollar, and the wetness in her jeans had barely gone through to the outside, meaning that no one would've known she’d wet her pants by looking at her, but she knew because she’d done it and because her shame had been trapped within the denim, holding to her skin. She shuddered, the similarity between her jeans containing her accident and a diaper doing the same reminding her of the subsequent train trips growing up, both her and Humberto wearing something thin enough to be considered underwear but thick enough to contain an accident should they have one. She remembered her mother making them for them, refusing to buy the Disney themed product that performed the same duty because she could do a better job with her sewing machine, the end result being a pair of pink panties trimmed with purple and adorned with ballerina slippers and princess crowns for her and a pair of blue panties trimmed with green and adorned with dinosaurs and cowboy hats for her brother. Marisol hated those panties almost as much as she hated wet pants because her mother had sewn so much padding into them that they were basically diapers, at least her young mind saw them that way, convinced that everyone that looked at her would see her waddling and assume she was a baby.

 

As she showered for the second time that morning, Marisol recalled, not by choice, an incident at a birthday party for a classmate when she was eight. A warm afternoon in the park, the smell of barbecue on the breeze, the sounds of children playing and laughing as they ran around and played in sand boxes and on swings and slides. Marisol was dressed too pretty to play, her frilly dress was for special occasions like this so she was seated with the mothers and the similarly dressed girls at the picnic table set up with paper plates and napkins while she watched Humberto playing tag with a friend of his.

 

Since the train incident, their mother had made a dozen more pairs of the absorbent underwear for her and her brother, Humberto being the chief reason for the increased output but her own accident being the inciting incident meant that even though she wasn’t having accidents as often as him, she was still lumped in with him, the curse of being twins striking once again. When they’d gotten up that morning, Humberto had once again wet his bed, though, the diapers he wore at night meant that there was minimal cleanup and none of the crying and apologizing that she heard through her wall in the mornings before the diapers had been introduced. Because of his checkered success rate with making it to the toilet on trips or when too much was going on for him to remember to go, he was deposited into the bulky homemade pull up after his bath while Marisol was requested to wear one out of solidarity, so Humberto didn’t feel badly for being a pants wetting baby, her words, not their mother’s.

 

So it was that Marisol fidgeted on the wooden bench, the thickness of her panties making her resentful of her brother as she watched him laugh and run while she had to sit like a pretty little doll. Rebellion was a foreign concept to her, she was, after all, a good girl and did as she was told, but something in her snapped when she saw her brother zone out for a moment and look down at his crotch before resuming his play. Being a twin, she was used to feeling things that weren’t happening to her directly, a sting on her backside when Humberto got a spanking, a queasiness when he was sick, and maybe watching what she knew was him deliberately wetting his pants rather than going to the bathroom was what brought the warm wetness out into her own underwear, but secretly she felt like it was her thumbing her nose at her mother for making her wear the childish garment, for relegating her to the table with the other dolls and their mothers. She hated the feeling of wet pants, but the panties did their job and kept the wetness close to her as it absorbed into the padding sewn into the crotch, and for some reason she didn’t hate that feeling.

 

After her shower, Marisol flopped onto her bed, her naked body still slightly damp as she checked the time on her phone to see how long she had until work. She texted Marcus and asked if he wanted to meet somewhere for food before work and looked at the texts she’d received from her mother, marveling and cringing in equal measure at how closely they resembled texts she’d gotten from friends with babies.

 

Mami: Don’t be so hard on your brother, Mari, you know he’s not as mature as you

Mami: I know it’s strange seeing him the way he is, but trust me, when you come home for your birthday you’ll see how sweet he is

 

A picture followed that message and she found herself dying a little inside for her brother but also strangely fascinated by the sight of him curled up in his bed, obviously asleep, wearing a pair of footed Spider-Man themed pajamas that their mother had clearly made for him, the thickness of his backside letting her know that at least one diaper was present if not a second one for extra protection, and a blue and yellow pacifier shield and ring covering his mouth.

 

Mami: See? It’s just like when you were babies, but bigger!

 

She’d seen her brother as she looked at the picture, but, as she always did, her mind grew out his hair and softened his features to make the picture of him a picture of her in her mind. She closed her eyes and tried to push the image away as her cheeks warmed with shame, but she just went deeper, seeing herself dressed like the women at the store, riding the coin operated car out front as her diaper warmed beneath her. She shook her head and responded to her mother as her eyes opened, choosing to keep things light between her and her mother to avoid an argument.

 

Me: As long as you don’t get any ideas about me dressing up like that, we’re fine.

 

She’d included the laughing crying emoji for good measure, just so her mother knew she wasn’t being aggressive.

 

Mami: Si, niña, Mami knows what a big grown up girl you are

 

Marisol read the message and furrowed her brow, her mother wasn’t usually condescending and belittling toward her, even in jest, but her message sounded like her mother was dismissing her as a silly little girl with silly fears of being seen as a baby when she was trying so desperately to prove she wasn’t. She’d started to respond, but thought better of it, feeling like anything she said in opposition to her mother’s statement, joke or not, would be seen as childish on her part.

 

She tossed her phone aside and groaned, “Why is everything so fucking weird right now?!” she grumbled.

 

Her phone chirped and she reluctantly picked it up.

 

Marcus: Hey, there’s a diner on 8^th and Montgomery, meet me there in 30?

 

She smiled and nodded to herself as she responded and deleted the “it’s a date” she’d written with something more relaxed and less desperate to ride his hot chocolate body.

 

Me: See you then.

 

*********

 

The diner was nice looking inside and out, the kind of establishment that made sure the 1950’s aesthetic was in full effect and that diners felt like they were transported back to that era, minus the modern day prices and the fact that people with a skin tone darker than mayonnaise could eat there without issue.

 

Marcus was already seated at in a booth on the far end of the dining area, raising an arm to wave her over when she entered as though she hadn’t immediately felt a twinge between her thighs at the sight of his biceps and chest straining against his gray t-shirt that practically sent her running to him like a cartoon cat chasing its mouse foil.

 

“Any trouble finding the place?” he asked her as he rose politely to greet her, only sitting back down once she was seated across from him.

 

She shook her head and swooned inwardly at his gentlemanly actions, feeling her cheeks warming at the knowledge that she, an independent woman in this day and age had swooned, “Pretty easy to spot the old timey diner.” she joked.

 

He smiled and chuckled, “I guess I’m just so used to people getting lost when they first move here.” he said, taking a sip of his ice water.

 

They made small talk and ordered drinks and then made more small talk and ordered food and then Marisol decided it was time to get down to business, “So, I ran into some women at the grocery store this morning.” she said once the waitress had taken their order.

 

“Yeah?” he said simply.

 

She nodded and leaned forward to whisper, “They were T2’s.” she told him.

 

He looked at her for a moment and then leaned in himself, “Why are you whispering?” he asked.

 

She leaned back, “I dunno, I thought maybe that was a hush hush kind of topic.” she explained.

 

He shrugged, “Not their turf.” he said, “We’re just outside of where them and the Teethers operate.” he told her, “So, what happened?” he asked.

 

She told him about the women, how they were dressed and how the smaller one was acting, explained that she’d hit her with her cart and everything that had gone down in and out of the store, leaving out the part about her wetting herself, obviously, though she did feel another pang of shame even skirting that part of the story.

 

He listened intently, nodding as she spoke, his brown eyes meeting her own gaze every now and again, “That must’ve been scary.” he said once she’d finished.

 

She nodded, “Weird that grown women dressed like toddlers can be so threatening.” she joked.

 

A shrill scream broke the silence of the diner and brought all eyes on the family that had entered. A tired looking mother in her forties looked apologetically at the gathered diners as she turned her attention to the colorful pastel satchel slung over her arm, looking relieved when she produced a pink pacifier with a bulb larger than anything Marisol had seen a baby use. The man slightly behind her shared her look of relief and the badges of sleep deprivation that came in the form of bags under his eyes as he firmly held a squirming girl roughly Marisol’s size judging by how far down his body her legs dangled. The girl, pale as a China doll with fiery red hair was continuing to loudly fuss, though words weren’t being said, merely grunts and whines of a thankfully lower intensity than the scream that had disrupted the diner until the pacifier entered her mouth and she immediately relaxed as it bobbed between her lips and she lay her head against her father’s chest as they waited for the waitress to lead them to their seat.

 

Marisol watched in silent awe as they approached and went to the booth two spots behind Marcus, the father waiting while the waitress brought over a highchair he politely requested and set his daughter in it once it arrived. The girl was dressed in pajamas that weren’t the fleecy material Humberto had been wearing, but rather a thin, breathable cotton. The white pajamas were adorned with pastel dots of various sizes and colors and had elastic cuffs on the wrists and ankles in a soft pink, the girl’s bare feet dangling just above the floor as she suckled her pacifier and watched her mother retrieve chunky, oversized crayons from the diaper bag she’d been carrying and set them and a place mat on the tray of the highchair along with a baby bottle of orange juice.

 

“T2?” Marisol whispered to Marcus.

 

He shook his head and held up his phone before he typed out a message that made her phone chime a second later when she got it.

 

Marcus: Talc user, most likely.

 

She looked up at him in confusion.

 

Me: Talc? Like baby powder?

 

He smirked at her and typed.

 

Marcus: Girl, did you do ANY research about this place before you moved?

Marcus: Talc is a drug that the T2’s and the Teethers both sell, it’s like their signature thing

 

She read his message and responded.

 

Me: Talc makes you act like a baby?

 

He made an indecisive face.

 

Marcus: Yes and no?

Marcus: It gives you a euphoria feeling, because, like a baby, you’re mind is overloaded by lights and sounds and outside stimuli

Marcus: A lot of the side effects make you like that girl

 

She looked around him at the girl in the highchair, probably a few years younger than herself though her behavior and dress made it hard to tell for sure. One thing Marisol knew for sure though, was that she was incredibly unsettled by the realization that she could just as easily be carried like that girl and sat in a highchair like that girl and she fought the thoughts of Marcus suddenly deciding to do just that for her. Her phone chimed just as their food arrived.

 

Marcus: You okay?

 

She waited for the waitress to leave and nodded and smiled, opting to speak so she could eat, “Seeing that girl,” she hesitated, wondering if she really wanted to open up to him so quickly, but the words were leaving her mouth already, “my brother is kind of going through the same thing right now.” she said softly.

 

His eyes widened, “You think he’s a user?” he asked.

 

She shrugged, “I mean, we’re twins and I’m not shitting my diaper and taking a nap after my mom changes me.” she whispered, wrinkling her nose as a flash of just that scenario going through her mind that she quickly picked up her sandwich to shut herself up with food before she inadvertently humiliated herself.

 

He chuckled and nodded, “I’ll take your word for it.” he teased.

 

She actively wanted to die in that moment as he ate a fry like nothing was wrong while she grappled with trying to gauge whether or not the little tabletop jukebox could end her suffering if she beat herself over the head with it. Was he just making a joke or did he genuinely doubt that she wasn’t like her brother? She feigned a smile and opened her mouth to supply a witty retort, forgetting that she had a mouthful of food and watched in slow motion as the wad of partially masticated sandwich rolled out of her mouth and into her lap, tumbling over her shirt on the way leaving a food smudge on her chest.

 

He smiled at her once again, his plump, kissable lips making her swoon inwardly once more as he picked up a napkin from beside him and extended it to her, “Food’s usually better when it stays in your mouth.” he teased.

 

She dumbly took the offered napkin and gathered up the wad of food from her lap before dabbing the end of the napkin in her water to wipe her shirt. She genuinely felt like crying, not just because she’d made a fool out of herself in front of this man that she wanted to have naked hugs with, but because it seemed like at every turn today she was displaying behavior more like what her brother or the girl behind Marcus would display. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in through her nose and regretted it when she smelled the foul scent of feces, hating herself for having a mini heart attack and giving a cursory wiggle in her seat to make sure she hadn’t messed herself in her distress.

 

The girl behind Marcus didn’t seem to mind that she’d soiled herself, content to simply have her father stand and pick her up from the highchair as he took the diaper bag from his wife and left to tend to his daughter.

 

Marcus scoffed, “Not that I was watching you intently or anything, but did you just shake your butt to make sure you weren’t the one making that smell?” he asked.

 

Her internal screams would’ve shattered every window in a six block radius if they were audible to anyone but her as she opened her mouth to respond and dumbly closed it again when nothing clever came to mind. She felt the dribbling a moment later, knowing that it wasn’t going to be contained like her earlier accident, felt the heat and wetness as the dribble became a stream, heard the wet pattering of her accident cascading down the vinyl of the booth seat to the linoleum below, her vision blurring with equally hot and wet tears that rolled down her cheeks when she tried to blink them away. Her mind raced to try and find some way out of the shameful predicament she found herself in as she watched Marcus slowly realize what was happening beneath the table. The moment hung frozen in time for eons, a time where he wasn’t disgusted with her, hadn’t yet seen what she’d done, she wished she could live in that moment for the rest of her life even if it meant mental anguish at being the only person that knew she was a pants wetting baby woman.

 

Instinct kicked in and she wildly flailed her arm to bring her water glass down, the ice water within drenching her shirt and jeans and bringing a high gasp at the sudden cold that covered all the previously warm areas of her lower half.

 

“Shit!” he exclaimed, reaching for napkins to pass to her.

 

She sighed inwardly as she went through the motions of taking the napkins and doing her best to clean up the water, apologizing to him and the waitress that came with a towel as she cleaned herself and the table up, dropping the towel onto the floor where her puddle was to destroy the last of the evidence.

 

He looked at his watch, “You’ve probably got enough time to get home and have a shower before work.” he told her, “I’ll get the check.” he added.

 

She nodded meekly, “I’m so sorry that I’m so clumsy, I’ll get the next check.” she apologized.

 

He smiled up at her as she stood from the booth, “I don’t think a woman should pay for dinner on the first date.” he said.

 

Her cheeks went hot again and she smiled broadly, “Probably not.” she said, turning to leave.

 

“Hey, Marisol?” he said as she started to walk away.

 

She turned, still floating with lusty happiness, “Yeah?” she asked.

 

“For the record,” he said as he leaned to one side to get out his wallet from his back pocket, “I still would’ve asked you out even if you hadn’t spilled your water.” he said, letting her know that he knew what had really happened but sparing her any further public embarrassment by being specific.

 

She was flustered and felt a final spurt into her panties as she avoided his gaze with her own, “Thank you.” she said quietly, turning and hurrying to the door of the diner and out to her car, catching the sight of the father changing his daughter’s soiled diaper on the backseat of their car as she went, crying and laughing like an insane person once she was safely in her car and away from anyone that might hear her. Laughing at how insanely happy she was to have a date with Marcus, but hysterically sobbing at the knowledge that he knew she’d wet herself without even trying to make it to the bathroom.

 

Uncomfortable, mentally exhausted, filled with self resentment and loathing, and horny as fuck, she put her car into reverse and backed up, absently wondering if her mother would be able to sew her some new absorbent panties without making a huge deal out of it, a thought that she banished as she put the car into drive and headed to the street when she imagined winding up in diapers like Humberto.

 

“Fuck this day.” she thought as she turned out of the restaurant parking lot.

 

To Be Continued...

[theaspiringnothing5]

This is absolutely my favorite story on this site. It's well-written and has believable dialogue. I'm not sure if you're going to update it again, but I'll be patiently waiting for the next chapter. I think it would be really cool to see an entire chapter dedicated to Humberto and his regression progress. What was going on in his head while his mother first started diapering him? Why didn't he put up that much of a fight? What is the day-to-day interactions between mother and son at this point? It's great to get Marisol's train-of-thought but it'd be intriguing to get a quick peak into Humberto's mind, as well.

[TheUnknownAuthor]

On 10/12/2022 at 10:01 AM, theaspiringnothing5 said:

This is absolutely my favorite story on this site. It's well-written and has believable dialogue. I'm not sure if you're going to update it again, but I'll be patiently waiting for the next chapter. I think it would be really cool to see an entire chapter dedicated to Humberto and his regression progress. What was going on in his head while his mother first started diapering him? Why didn't he put up that much of a fight? What is the day-to-day interactions between mother and son at this point? It's great to get Marisol's train-of-thought but it'd be intriguing to get a quick peak into Humberto's mind, as well.

First, thank you for reading, I'm super happy to hear you like the story so much! As far as Humberto goes, we'll get a lot more information about him and what happened with him, but not for a little bit, Marisol is the main character and we're following her right now BUT she is going back home in the near future and our plucky reporter wouldn't just ignore a potential story, right?

 

Four

 

The steam from the shower hung heavy in the small bathroom as Marisol, quite clean, stood under the water and gave her current situation great thought. Truth be told, she’d been flitting in and out of focusing on the events of the day, her thoughts shifting to the women at the store and the girl at the diner and Humberto. She found herself circling back to her brother over and over again, which was out of the norm for her since they’d grown up and made friends and traveled in different circles, but with everything going on with him and everything going on with her, she found herself dwelling on whether he’d been using Talc or if he’d joined one of the gangs, if they even had a presence back home or not.

 

She racked her brain to try and come up with any signs she might’ve seen in the past that would confirm one or both of the gangs had members where she’d grown up, but nothing readily sprung to mind as she turned off the water and stepped over the lip of the tub onto her bathmat and wrapped a towel around herself. With a weary sigh, she came out of her bathroom after the third shower of the day, and went to the nightstand when her phone chimed.

 

Marcus: Hey, they need a camera guy for a fire up North and I agreed, you’ll probably get a call or a text from the station manager giving you the night off, just FYI

 

Marcus’s text had come through while she was showering, but the one that she’d gotten after was in fact from the station manager and was telling her about the fire and that since they had a shortage of camera people, she didn’t have to work that night.

 

“Thank God for small favors.” she thought as she brought Marcus’ text back up to reply.

 

Me: Tell me you didn’t drive up North after lunch and start a great big fire just to avoid seeing me after I made a fool of myself

 

She felt her cheeks warm at the memory of what she’d done and that she was bringing it up so shortly after it had happened.

 

Marcus: You caught me, public displays of embarrassment send me right to arson

 

She smiled.

 

Me: Not that I want to talk about it, but should we?

Me: Talk about it, I mean.

 

Marcus: Is it something that might happen again?

 

She thrust her face into her pillow and groaned loudly.

 

Me: We should talk about it.

Me: Let me know when you’re done with the fire and you can come by here for an apology dinner?

 

Her stomach fluttered nervously.

 

Marcus: You don’t have to apologize if there’s something medically wrong with you.

 

She sighed.

 

Me: The truth is, I don’t know what’s going on with me, but I know that I really like you and don’t want something stupid scaring you away from liking me too.

 

Her phone was silent for an agonizingly long time and she chewed her bottom lip nervously until he finally responded.

 

Marcus: Text me your address and if I’m hungry and feel like talking, I’ll stop by.

 

She texted her address, worrying that his response felt annoyed and dismissive but fought the urge to send him another message after he didn’t respond with anything in response to her address. Setting her phone aside, she got up from the bed with a sigh and unhooked her towel, letting it fall to the floor before she walked to her dresser to find something to wear for the rest of the day.

 

With her need to go to work gone, her desire to learn more about both the gangs in the area and the drug they peddled drove her to her laptop on her bed after making herself a cup of tea to steady her mind as she found herself jumping from thought to thought with little in the way of focus. Her video chat program began to ring just as she was getting her computer up and running for searching and documenting, and she chewed her bottom lip as she hovered over the ‘answer’ button.

 

“Hola, Mami.” she greeted with a halfhearted smile as her mother appeared on the screen.

 

Her mother gave a concerned smile, “What happened, did you get fired?” her mother asked, “Baby, the big city is-” she started to say.

 

Marisol shook her head, “I didn’t get fired, Mami, they didn’t need me tonight.” she explained.

 

Her mother looked relieved, “Oh, well, that’s good then!” she said, “Why do you look so down, honey?” she asked.

 

Marisol chewed her lip and shrugged, looking down at her keyboard, she couldn’t tell her mother anything about what had been happening with her bladder, but a small part of her felt like a little girl again, wanting to let go of her secrets so Mami could make everything better.

 

She heard giggling from somewhere off camera, her brother by the sound of it. The interruption had caused her train of thought to derail and she found herself looking past her mother to something behind her, a stuffed elephant she hadn’t seen since she’d deemed herself ‘too mature’ to sleep with the thing anymore, “Mami, where are you?” she asked her mother.

 

Her mother was smiling at something beyond the camera, “Huh? Oh, I’m in Humberto’s room while your father watches the game in the living room.” she explained briskly before returning her attention to what Marisol assumed was her brother.

 

Marisol stared at the elephant, his well worn fuzziness making it known that he had been loved and cuddled regularly in his life, and she found herself feeling a pang of guilt for abandoning him and a desire to have him with her now to tell him her secrets so she didn’t have to tell her mother.

 

The camera on her mother’s tablet flipped to show Humberto on a colorful pastel blanket on his back, his hands holding onto his foot as he held his mouth open like a fish in anticipation for the wiggling toes he was trying so hard to get into his drooling maw.

 

Marisol felt queasy as she looked at the garment stretched over his bulky diaper, the snaps straining to contain the mass of plastic and padding as it rustled loudly with every wiggle and jerk of his body.

 

Her mother got up from where she’d been sitting and stood over Humberto, with the camera focused on him, “Can you say ‘hello, Mari?’” her mother cooed down to him.

 

Marisol felt the heat rise in her cheeks as she looked at her brother trying to get his toes to his mouth, the baby blue fabric printed with “Mommy’s Baby Boy” on the chest in bubbly cartoon letters, his wordless, wet gurgles barely audible over the sounds of his crinkling diaper, “Mami.” she said faintly as she closed her eyes to stop the nauseous feeling washing over her.

 

The camera flipped back around, “Did you say something, sweetheart?” her mother asked.

 

Marisol opened her eyes and once again saw the elephant and the nausea subsided as she smiled at him, “Momo.” she said almost to herself, a swell of silly pride filling her up at remembering the elephant’s name after all those years.

 

Her mother looked over her shoulder and picked up the elephant, “Who’s this?” she cooed, playfully shaking the elephant in her hand.

 

Marisol furrowed her brow, wondering if her mother hadn’t heard her just say the elephant’s name, “Momo!” she practically shouted, covering her mouth with both hands when her mother jumped at the sudden outburst and dropped her tablet.

 

Her mother groaned as she bent down to pick the tablet back up, “Mari, baby, not so loud.” her mother chided her, “Remember inside voices?” she asked.

 

Marisol did remember when she and Humberto would be too loud playing in the house and their parents would tell them to use ‘inside voices’ to bring the volume down, “Sorry, Mami, I wanted to make sure you heard me when I told you his name.” she explained, genuinely remorseful for startling her mother.

 

Her mother looked confused, “Mari, I was asking ‘Berto who the elephant was.” her mother said, her lips curling into a smile, “You used to do that for Blue’s Clues and Dora, remember, baby?” she asked. “You and ‘Berto both would shout at the TV as loud as you could so Dora and that gringo could hear you.” she mused.

 

Marisol’s cheeks felt hot again as she felt incredibly silly for her outburst now that her mother was equating it to the toddler versions of her and her brother shouting at baby shows, an image of her and her brother now dressed as her brother was now parked in front of the TV gurgling at brightly colored cartoons flashed into her head and she felt the nausea return as she sprung up from the bed and to the bathroom where she quickly got down on her knees and flipped the toilet seat up before she vomited.

 

Vomiting was equal to wet pants in the hatred column of life for her, the feeling was awful, the taste worse, and the fact that her eyes and nose leaked their respective fluids all while she struggled to spit her mouth clean without strands of saliva connecting her mouth to the toilet water made her feel like vomiting all over again just thinking about it.

 

“Are you alright, baby?” her mother asked when she returned after wiping her face and brushing her teeth.

 

Marisol nodded softly and gently rubbed her stomach as she gingerly got back onto the bed, laying down on her side with the laptop beside her.

 

“Your brother has an upset tummy too.” her mother said, “Though his problem is focused more in the South, if you know what I mean.” she joked.

 

Marisol rubbed her stomach with her eyes closed, she didn’t immediately know what her mother meant, but when she gave it some thought she giggled softly, “Poopy.” she mumbled with a smile.

 

“You two must still be on that twin connection thing.” her mother said as she got up from her seat and went to ‘Berto.

 

Marisol’s eyes shot open, “Mami, has ‘Berto been peeing his diaper today?” she asked suddenly.

 

Her mother stared at her, “No, Mari, I just have him in them for decoration.” her mother said with a shocking amount of sarcasm.

 

Marisol was taken aback for a moment at her mother’s response and felt very stupid for asking her question that way, “I mean-” she stopped herself as she very narrowly began to tell her mother about her accident’s, “I’m going to take some medicine and have a nap, Mami.” she said quickly, disconnecting the call before her mother could say anything else.

 

She sighed wearily but smiled, her accident’s today had to be because of what was happening with ‘Berto and she closed her eyes once more and slipped into sleep with a smile on her face and pride in herself for having solved the mystery of her sudden bladder control lapse.

 

*********

 

Her phone ringing woke her up some time later and she grumbled softly as she picked it up and swiped the screen without opening her eyes, years of muscle memory kicking in to allow her to stay adjacent to the nap she’d been roused from. She murmured a greeting that didn’t really sound like what she’d intended to say.

 

“Marisol?” Marcus’ voice asked.

 

She grumpily opened her eyes and rolled over onto her back, realizing with much embarrassment that her words had failed to form a moment earlier because her mouth had been filled with not just her thumb, but with some of her hair that she’d wrapped around the digit, a habit her mother had fought for years to break her of.

 

Pulling her thumb from her mouth and clearing her throat, she blinked her eyes to focus her vision, “Marcus?” she asked.

 

“Hey, so I’m done with the fire and was calling to make sure you still wanted me to stop by.” he explained.

 

She nodded her head softly as she listened to him, a giddy feeling building in her stomach as a bright smile spread over her face, “Uh huh!” she agreed eagerly.

 

He was silent for a moment, “Okay, umm, I’ll probably be back in the city in about an hour and I’ll stop by.” he said, “Do you need me to bring anything?” he asked.

 

Her mind took a quick detour through potential answers, condoms, that fine ass, those strong arms,” her cheeks flushed as she tried to calm herself, “Maybe some wine?” she offered.

 

His smile carried through his voice, “Is this still an apology dinner?” he asked.

 

She fidgeted nervously, “We can start there and see where wine takes us.” she said in her best seductive tone.

 

“I’ll call you when I’m close.” he said after a moment.

 

“Can’t wait.” she said as the line disconnected.

 

The events of the day vanished from her mind as she bustled around to clean up the house, wrinkling her nose at the smell of the pants and panties she’d wet at the diner still on the bathroom floor as she tossed them into the wash. She really was a neat person overall, so cleaning up didn’t take much time and she could shift to cleaning herself up and finding something to wear for the evening.

 

She was embarrassed by the small snarl in her hair that she’d created when she’d been sucking her thumb with her hair twirled around it, but managed to fix it and make herself look, in her own humble opinion, quite pretty as she went to her closet for something to wear, dismissing her more professional looking work clothes and her dressier, well, dresses, and settled on a cream colored peasant top that made her cleavage pop and a pair of blue jeans that did the same for her butt, putting the finishing touches on her light amount of makeup just as her phone began to ring.

 

“Are you here?!” she asked as she answered the phone, her excitement making her question louder and far more eager sounding than she realized.

 

“Just coming up the block.” Marcus said, “Any special instructions to get to you?” he asked.

 

She shook her head, “Nuh uh, just look for the lovely Latina.” she playfully said.

 

Marcus cleared his throat, “Alright then.” he said, clearly not sure how to handle her directness and overwhelming modesty.

 

Stuffing her phone into her back pocket with a squeal of delight, Marisol hurried to the front door and unlocked and opened it, stepping out into the walkway that ran the length of the apartments on the second floor where she lived. The whole thing made the apartments look like a motel, but she could see the parking area from the railing and found herself nervously and excitedly fidgeting as she looked over the railing to the cars below, a squeaking sound she’d never in her life produced before escaping her lips when she saw Marcus through the windshield of a gray SUV.

 

“Hi!” she exclaimed, flailing her arm back and forth above her head as he stepped out of the car.

 

He looked up at her and then gave an awkward wave and smile before leaning into the car to grab the wine he’d brought.

 

“Did you find it okay?” she asked as he came up the stairs.

 

He nodded and followed her back to her apartment, closing the door behind himself as she entered and immediately began giving him the grand tour, “Marisol, are you alright?” he asked, interrupting her as she was telling him about her couch.

 

She furrowed her brow, “Yes, why?” she asked, drawing each word out as her eyes looked left and right like she was searching for the reason he might be asking such a question.

 

He set the wine down on the kitchen counter, “You’re just really,” he paused, searching for the right word, “up?” he said, making it sound like a question.

 

She giggled, covering her mouth as her shoulders rose up to her ears, “I made tea after my shower and I am so silly, I made sleepy time tea and it made me sick because it has something in it I’m allergic to and I threw up and then took a nap so I’m like wide awake!” she said, telling the story at such a speed that it seemed like the words were on fire and she needed to get them out before she got hurt, “And plus, I’m excited you’re here!” she said with another giggle as she suddenly moved forward and threw her arms around his middle to hug him.

 

He held his arms up even with his chest like he was in a pool as she hugged him and gently put them down so his hands were on her arms and calmly pried her from him, “Marisol, have you taken any drugs today?” he asked, concerned but careful to keep his tone light so she wouldn’t be upset or embarrassed he’d asked.

 

She shook her head, “Drugs are bad.” she said, chewing her bottom lip as she worried his not hugging her back and going so far as to push her away meant he didn’t like her.

 

He nodded and smiled at her, “Drugs are bad.” he said calmly, “But if you did take some it doesn’t mean you’re bad or that I’m mad at you.” he told her.

 

“I didn’t take anything though!” she insisted.

 

“Okay.” he told her, putting his hands on her shoulders and gently moving in to hug her, “I believe you.” he said, his hand lightly rubbing her back.

 

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply as he hugged her, his cologne smelled like the trees she’d seen when her family went camping and made her feel more at ease, her racing thoughts and heart slowing to normal levels as she luxuriated in the feeling of his strong arms around her, “What drugs did you think I took?” she asked quietly from inside the cocoon of his arms and chest, a place she wished she could remain forever and ever.

 

He sighed softly, “Well, Talc.” he told her.

 

She felt a hot prickle of embarrassment on the back of her neck that ran up her scalp, “Why?” she asked.

 

He pulled her from him and looked down into her eyes, “Yesterday you were this smart, professional woman, and today you’re,” he hesitated, worrying about hurting her feelings now that she’d insisted she wasn’t high, “you just seem to be a little more hyperactive.” he said after a sigh.

Her cheeks began to heat up, “I’m sorry.” she said, looking down at her feet to avoid his gaze, realizing only now that she’d forgotten to put shoes on, her toes wiggling to illustrate the lack of shoes to her eyes.

 

“Hey.” he said softly, lifting her chin with his fingertips, “You don’t need to be sorry about anything, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” he told her.

 

She forced a smile and nodded as she looked up at him, “I think the stuff with my brother has just been making me stressed and this stuff with Talc and the gangs, it’s like messing with me, you know?” she explained.

 

“Do you think that’s what caused your accident at the diner?” he asked.

 

She felt mortified that he’d said the word ‘accident’ and not been vague to spare her the humiliation of confirming verbally that he knew exactly what had happened, but looking into his dark eyes made her calm and she simply nodded sheepishly, “Growing up, we had that twin bond, he’d get hurt and I’d feel some of the pain, that kind of thing.” she explained, “I’m wondering if maybe that’s what’s happening now because he’s acting like a baby.” she said.

 

He nodded, “And nothing like this has ever happened to you before?” he asked.

 

She was chewing her bottom lip again, “Like accidents?” she asked.

 

He shrugged, “Like anything you’re experiencing.” he clarified.

 

Her breathing had increased along with her heart rate as instances of wetting her pants throughout her life flashed through her head as she shook it softly to answer him, her desire to suck her thumb suddenly very strong to her horror. She hurried to the kitchen and filled a glass from the tap and quickly drank the water down to quell the dryness in her mouth.

 

“You have a filter on your tap, right?” he asked.

 

She shook her head as she drank, sending rivulets of water down her chin and neck.

 

His eyes went wide as he watched her finish the glass and set it down on the counter with both hands, “Marisol, you haven’t been drinking tap water since you moved in, have you?” he asked, his tone steeped in concern.

 

She nodded, “It’s not the best, but I can’t afford a filter right now.” she told him.

 

He swore softly under his breath, “Marisol, haven’t you seen the boil water notices?” he asked, “Your apartment didn’t give you a copy of the warning from the city?” he asked.

 

She absently shook her head, but wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying, she was admiring the way his shirt hugged his chest and arms, her fingers moving to the front of her jeans to press gently against the tickle she was feeling between her legs, a soft titter coming from her as she felt how wet he’d made her.

 

He was moving, coming around the bar to join her in the kitchen and she imagined him hefting her up onto the counter and kissing her deeply, “Ah, fuck.” he said with a sigh as he came around the corner.

 

She’d never felt so aroused in her life, and had never been so wet for a guy before either, the warm wetness of her jeans making her absently worried he’d see the spot she assumed was visible given how soaked the denim felt against her fingers.

 

“Marisol, sweetie?” he was hunched and looking into her eyes, his strong hands on her shoulders.

 

She looked into his eyes and felt her legs go weak, stopped from crumpling to the floor by his hands quickly hooking under her armpits as he lifted her up without any kind of outward strain and set her on the counter, “Strong daddy.” she purred, chewing her thumbnail as she hungrily eyed him.

 

He smiled at her sympathetically, “Honey, the water supply is contaminated, you’ve basically been dosing yourself with Talc since you moved in.” he explained, his tone calm and even to keep her relaxed.

 

Somewhere inside her mind she recognized that that information was alarming and should make her concerned, but she was just so head over heels in love with how attractive he was that she couldn’t manage to do much more than rub the front of her jeans and seductively show him what her mouth was capable of with her thumb as a stand in for his manhood.

 

He slumped against the fridge and smiled sympathetically at her once more, “I’ll stay with you until you come down.” he said as he watched his coworker suck her thumb and pee her pants while she sat on her kitchen counter and rubbed herself for a moment in fascination at her transformation before he shook his head and came to his senses and lifted her from the counter and helped her to sit on the floor so she wouldn’t fall and hurt herself.

 

To Be Continued...

 

 

[theaspiringnothing5]

Wonderful chapter! I really enjoy your prose. I hope you continue this story to the end, or at least post whatever you have left before abandoning it.

[TheUnknownAuthor]

On 10/25/2022 at 10:41 AM, theaspiringnothing5 said:

Wonderful chapter! I really enjoy your prose. I hope you continue this story to the end, or at least post whatever you have left before abandoning it.

Thank you! I'm sorry I haven't updated this story and that it took me so long to reply, but fear not, I am committed to continuing AND finishing this story, I've been super busy with life stuff and finding time to round robin the three stories I currently have going AND do the Halloween story I just posted yesterday has been a struggle. I greatly appreciate your kind words and am super happy you're enjoying the story, don't give up hope, it will continue soon™️!

[TheUnknownAuthor]

Five

 

The first thing he did was clean up the mess she’d made when she wet herself, then he placed an order to have some things delivered from the grocery store, which he did after taking a spot behind her on the floor with her sitting between his legs as he held her and rocked back and forth with his body to keep her calm and not get upset about her wet pants.

 

“What’s that, Daddy?” she asked, pointing at the screen of his phone.

 

He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to incite a tantrum, but ultimately deciding that if he was going to be her ‘daddy’ for the next few hours or longer, he’d have to accept that quelling a tantrum may be in the cards, “Daddy’s shopping for some things he needs so he can take care of you tonight.” he told her.

 

Marisol wasn’t listening to him, she was leaning against him and looking up at him while trying to wrap her diminished mind around why her naughty spot was tingling so much.

 

Order placed, he stood, helping her to her feet, and led her on uncertain legs to the bathroom connected to her bedroom, “Daddy needs to get you cleaned up because you wet your pants.” he explained, “Can you be a big girl and get your pants and underwear off by yourself?” he asked.

 

She stood there staring at him blankly, her thumb twirling her hair around it before she stuck it into her mouth.

 

He smiled at her, “Can I get you out of your wet pants and underwear so you can have a bath?” he asked, wanting her consent to appease his gentlemanly nature.

 

She giggled and nodded, her toes wiggling as she wobbled slightly.

 

Clinical was the word he chose to use to describe the undressing and subsequent bath, making sure he only touched what needed to get clean and only for long enough to get the job done. He left her bra on her but removed her shirt to keep it dry and helped her step into the filled tub and sit down gently as he got a washcloth soaped up.

 

“You a good Daddy.” she murmured around her thumb as he washed her below the water.

 

He smiled, “Thank you.” he said, “You’re a pretty good baby.” he added, feeling stupid the moment the words left his mouth.

 

She wiggled her feet happily and smiled.

 

His phone chimed as he was draining the tub and helping her to her feet, and he deftly picked her up and carried her to the bed wrapped in her towel, “Can you stay right there until I get back?” he asked.

 

She nodded softly, continuing to suck her thumb, drooling a bit as she lolled her head to the side and smiled at him.

 

Salvation came in plastic bags, one with a package of adult diapers, the other with a pack each of bottles and pacifiers and wipes and powder, and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so happy to get a grocery delivery as he made his way back to the bedroom, glad any future messes would be contained and eager to get her thumb and hair from her mouth.

 

She began to fuss when he opened the pack of diapers and pulled one out, but he took charge effortlessly.

 

“Hey, there’s no need to be upset about this.” he said, unfolding the diaper, “This isn’t some regular old baby diaper, no ma’am, this is a pack of genuine magic princess diapers!” he told her.

 

She stopped fussing and stared up at him, her eyes wide with wonder as she gazed upon the alleged magic diaper, “Nuh uh!” she said, sounding like she wasn’t entirely sure he was lying.

 

He nodded, “I swear!” he said, “These diapers are the most comfortable thing you’ll ever wear and the magic in them makes it so Daddy’s can’t help but cuddle you and make you dinner and play with you all night long!” he told her.

 

She wiggled her bottom, “All night?” she asked, her thumb falling from her lips.

 

He nodded, taking the opportunity to replace her thumb with one of the pacifiers he’d bought, “Until your eyes get too heavy to stay open and you fall asleep.” he said.

 

She sucked the pacifier and smiled, nodding her head excitedly, “Kay!” she squeaked.

 

The process was relatively quick, all things considered. Marisol tried to get more out of the fleeting instances of his hands touching her sensitive flesh, but Marcus was focused on the task at hand, barely looking at her nudity as he performed an act he’d carried out many times over across numerous siblings in his time on Earth. He smiled proudly when it turned out he’d guessed the size she’d need, the tapes sealing the plain white garment around her waist snugly, the smell of powder filling the air around them as he stood up and went to her dresser, “Do you have any pajamas we can put on you?” he asked.

 

“No ni-ni, wanna fuck!” she whined, struggling and writhing on the bed as she tried and finally succeeded in slipping her bra off and quickly scrambling to retrieve her pacifier as it tumbled from her mouth to the bed in the struggle.

 

He had to fight hard not to laugh, turning to face her, “Marisol, that’s not a very nice word for a little girl to use.” he told her.

 

She timidly sucked her pacifier, “Sorry, Daddy.” she said glumly.

 

He pulled an oversized shirt from the top drawer and returned to her, “Hey, I’m not mad and you’re not in trouble, but let’s not use any naughty words tonight, okay?” he asked as he slipped the shirt on over her head and guided her arms into the other holes. Scooping her up and setting her on his hip, he smiled at her, “How about we get some nummies in that tummy?” he asked, tickling her stomach gently and holding her tight as she writhed and giggled before resting her head on his shoulder.

 

In the kitchen, he set the bottles down on the counter and did the same with her, giving her a warning that she needed to sit still if she was going to be allowed to be up high as he went to the fridge and got some milk from inside to fill the bottle with, warming it in the microwave before handing it to her and taking her pacifier from her mouth so she could drink it.

 

“Does mac and cheese sound good?” he asked.

 

She nodded excitedly as she sucked her bottle.

 

The search for what he needed to make her dinner took the longest amount of time, the way Marisol had her cabinets organized, or lack thereof, frustrated him greatly, but he found a pot and the blue box of pasta and started cooking for her as she watched intently and nursed her bottle.

 

“The secret to really good mac and cheese,” he said, tying an apron on himself, “is having a cute girl to taste test while you make it!” he told her, touching her nose with the tip of his finger and winking at her.

 

She giggled and dribbled milk down her chin and onto her shirt, her diaper rustling softly as she bounced on her butt happily.

 

“What did Daddy say about sitting still?” he asked her.

 

She stopped instantly and resumed quietly sucking her bottle.

 

He pulled out his phone and opened up his music player and found some music he thought she might like, up tempo Spanish music with lots of energy to play while he cooked for her and periodically danced, to her great delight. He caught himself looking at her periodically, telling himself he was being a responsible temporary guardian and making sure she was safe on the counter, but he knew it was a lie to absolve him from feeling creepy about himself. He wasn’t looking at her lustfully, he could honestly say that, but he was looking at her and taking in little things that were making him feel closer to her, pulling him in to something that would feel pretty amazing if the circumstances of the situation were different. He found himself noticing the way her hair frizzed just a little bit where she’d been laying her head on the bed, noticed the semicircle of flesh visible where the too big for her shirt lazily hung off to the left of her, her collarbone and shoulder a rich caramel color with a smoothness he wanted to kiss to know the feel of. He drank in the sight of her legs crossed in front of her, the dress of a shirt pooling in her lap, the fullness of her lips as she gently suckled the nipple of her bottle, every new detail he noticed made him glad he was with her and eager to spend more time with her going forward. He shook his head to regain his focus and went back to cooking, smiling to himself as he worked and thought of her.

 

“Taste.” he said, holding up a little spoonful of orange yellow pasta in front of her.

 

She smiled at him, her dark eyes sparkling as she opened her mouth and accepted the spoon, “Mmm!” she hummed excitedly.

 

“Yeah?” he asked, moving to the pot to start putting it in bowls for them.

 

She was nodding enthusiastically, “Nummy, Daddy!” she said with a giggle.

 

He filled the bowls and took them to the table before returning to the kitchen to pick her up and carry her to the table and sit her down in the chair beside where he’d put his own bowl, “Can you feed yourself?” he asked, holding up a spoon for her.

 

She nodded and took the spoon from him, holding it in her fist like a toddler would.

 

An idea struck him, “How about this?” he said, picking her up once more and sitting down with her on his lap, her bowl pulled to him as he scooped some of the pasta onto it and held it to her mouth. He didn’t know what a swoon felt like, but her body relaxing the moment he set her on his lap and pulled the bowl over let him know that he’d made the right choice in her eyes.

 

Just as he had noticed her while he’d been cooking, she noticed him as he used a silly voice to get her to open her mouth to accept the airplane spoon carrying her macaroni. Her thoughts weren’t her own currently, her rational, adult mind was taking a nap somewhere in the back corner of her mind, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking, in some ways, she was thinking clearer than ever without things like inhibition and self consciousness getting in the way of her feelings. When she looked at him, she saw his strong arms that carried her and held her without a second thought, she saw how he transitioned effortlessly into a caregiver that knew every move to make to keep her safe and happy, she saw that none of the things he said or did were an act, that he was comfortable being her Daddy in a way that gave her hope he’d stay with her forever and continue to be her Daddy.

 

“Such a messy eater.” he playfully teased as he picked a few fallen macaroni noodles from the bowl her oversized shirt had created.

 

She giggled, thinking about a forever being with him as his baby, wondering if he’d take her to play with her brother and meet Mami and have deep, meaningful, boring conversation while she and ‘Berto crawled around giggling and playing together.

 

“Whatchya thinking about, little one?” he asked after she’d failed to get all of another bite in her mouth.

 

Her diaper warmed beneath her, “You be Daddy all time?” she asked.

 

He never stopped smiling at her as he set the spoon down and took her hand in his, “Marisol, sweetie,” he started, “do you know what pretend is?” he asked.

 

She nodded softly, she remembered playing pretend, holding a microphone and talking to his camera like a big grownup news lady, “Peetend is no wheel.” she told him. He nodded, still smiling, maybe even smiling differently, proudly, maybe?

 

“That’s right!” he praised, “This is pretend.” he told her, his thumb stroking the top of her hand, “You’re gonna be a big girl again soon and you won’t need a Daddy to take care of you.” he explained, not sure how much of any of this was getting through to her, “But, when you’re a big girl again I will take you out to a nice restaurant, take you dancing, and we can see if there’s something between us that might lead to us being together.” he said, kissing her cheek.

 

She smiled when he kissed her cheek and turned and hugged him, she didn’t fully grasp what he was telling her, but he was smiling and had kissed her, and that’s all she needed, that and more of his nummy mac and cheese.

 

**********

 

After she was fed and he ate his meal, he set her down on the couch and turned on cartoons for her to watch, refilling and warming another bottle of milk for her while he cleared the table and cleaned up the kitchen. Once everything was back where it had been and clean, he made his way to the couch and sat down by her feet.

 

She looked over at him and sat up, her teeth clamped down on the nipple of her bottle as she crawled onto his lap and curled up to look up at him with drooping eyes.

 

He knew the second bottle was putting her to sleep, and gently took hold of it for her and held it so she could finish it, watching as her eyes closed as she nursed. He situated her so he was cradling her and felt something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Since he’d met her, he’d been attracted to her, she was quite beautiful and smart and enjoyable to talk to, but holding her in his arms, the warmth of her skin on his, the smallness of her form on his lap as she drank from a bottle in an oversized shirt with a diaper he knew was wet underneath made her seem like a different person while still being the same person. He imagined the feeling was something like what a parent feels when the baby looks like a shrunk down version of their partner rather than a mix of the two or an adopted child. He was falling in love with the baby version of her, not in a way that would be, in his opinion, wrong and an abuse of his power, but in a way that dictated he’d die to keep her safe and happy, to ensure that this little bundle of adorablness in his arms never felt sad or alone, that she was always loved and cared for because she had him.

 

When the bottle emptied, he gently sat her up and patted her back, drawing out a large burp and a sleepy giggle before her lips wrapped around the pacifier he put to them and lay her back down for more light rocking until her soft breathing turned to soft snoring allowing him time to sit in the quiet of the living room once the TV was turned off and process the deluge of new thoughts and emotions he had now with regards to her.

 

**********

 

It was still dark when she woke up, disoriented for a moment in the quiet darkness of the living room until she saw him, sleeping sitting up and realized she was on his lap. Her cheeks flushed as she recalled some of what had happened, her hand probing the squishy middle of the diaper she wore as a wave of shame and embarrassment washed over her. She’d made a total fool of herself in front of him, and he’d taken it all in without hesitation, stayed with her in her time of need, bathed her, clothed her, fed her, and nurtured her in a way that no coworker ever should or would for someone they worked with. She was still sucking the pacifier he’d given her when she lay her head back down on his arm and watched him sleep for a moment. This man was truly something special, he’d stayed when he could’ve run, he indulged her infantile needs when she was high on Talc, he’d given her love and attention she hadn’t felt since, she saw ‘Berto in her mind and thought of her mother.

 

“What would Mami think of me now?” she wondered, a brief image of her and ‘Berto crawling around on the floor as Marcus and Mami watched over them flashing in her mind, “She’d love to have both her babies back at home.” she thought with a tingle up her spine that brought a spurt of warmth into her diaper.

 

Her thoughts were straightening out, but she was still feeling the effects of the drug, the pacifier was helping to keep her calm in the face of overwhelming feelings of how big an apology would be required to make things up to Marcus for spoiling their night, though the adult part of her knew he’d hear no apology from her on the subject, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever be able to see her as anything but this version of herself going forward.

 

Her thoughts derailed when her tummy rumbled ominously, the milk she’d drank combined with dinner and the drug still in her system made the need to poop come on quite suddenly and very intensely, and she started thinking of ways to get off his lap without waking him and get to the bathroom without waking him, remove her diaper and use the toilet without waking him and get back on his lap without waking him. As she thought, crunching numbers and extrapolating data, plotting the geometry of what she needed to do, her body gave her an ultimatum in the form of a strong cramp and she sighed softly as she looked up at him in the dark before closing her eyes and pushing down on her bowels to relieve the pain and discomfort, vowing to herself that she’d never ever in a million years tell him that the messy diaper he’d had to change on their first date wasn’t created while she was high and not in control of her faculties, that she’d merely chosen to use her diaper so she didn’t wake him, but as the mess settled in the seat of her diaper and she settled back down in his arms with a sleepy yawn, she knew that wasn’t the whole truth, but she was too sleepy to deal with the reality that being his baby wasn’t even a little bit unpleasant and that maybe Humberto had a pretty good idea after all.

 

To Be Continued...

[TheUnknownAuthor]

Six

 

Officially, Marisol woke up first early in the night, agonizing about her need to relieve her suddenly angry bowels and quietly accepting her role as the baby of the evening the Talc had chosen for her, but she’d quickly fallen back to sleep on Marcus’ lap after messing her diaper, so it didn’t really seem fair to count it as “waking up”, so it was that Marcus woke up as sunlight filtered in through the blinds of the living room window, glinting shards of light across his closed eyes until he stirred and finally awoke. His smile when he saw her peacefully cuddled up on his lap, pacifier half hanging from her mouth, her too large shirt askew to give him another glimpse of her shoulder and collarbone faded quickly when he smelled what she’d done in her diaper.

 

Sighing softly, he raised his arm and gently stroked her head, “Marisol.” he said softly, “C’mon, honey, we need to get you changed.” he told her.

 

She stirred slightly, her eyes slowly opening as she looked up at him.

 

When their eyes met they both knew she’d weathered the storm and regained her faculties, she saw her coworker and felt deep, immeasurable shame and humiliation for her actions the night before, and he saw the intelligence behind her eyes, the simple thoughts rising and disappearing like soap bubbles she’d demonstrated the night before replaced with calculation and understanding.

 

“I-” she started to say.

 

He shook his head, “We’re not talking about anything right now.” he said softly, his smile returning, “Have a shower and I’ll make coffee for us and once we’ve both woken up we can talk about whatever you’re comfortable talking about.” he explained.

 

She numbly nodded and climbed off his lap as gracefully as she could weighed down by a sagging pouch of her own urine and feces and wearing a shirt that allowed for her breasts to be exposed the moment she leaned too far forward. The shirt did cover her shameful diaper as she waddled away, so she was at least grateful for that much.

 

When she reached the bathroom and shut and locked the door behind her, she caught sight of herself in the mirror, her hair mussed from resting her head on the stiff couch pillow all night, the collar of her shirt damp from drool, and then she lifted her shirt and looked down at the diaper he’d bought and taped her into the night before, the front discolored from a heavy wetting she chose to believe had happened before she’d come down from the Talc and not while she was sleeping. Still holding her shirt up with one hand, she sent her free hand behind her to assess the damage she’d done to the seat of the crinkling garment, a soft lump evading her fingers as she lightly pressed against the plastic shell, the knowledge of what it was she was feeling making her shudder and whimper softly as she let her shirt fall and turned on the tub faucet to cover the sound of her humiliated sobs.

 

**********

 

Marcus waited for the water to start running in the bathroom before he got up from the couch with a groan, his shoulder and back aching terribly from the position he’d slept in. He trudged to the kitchen and searched for coffee and cups and went to work brewing some for the two of them before he began searching for air freshener to get rid of the lingering scent Marisol had left in the apartment, his goal being to remove the offending odor so she wouldn’t be reminded of the incident any more than she already would be, and spare her any further embarrassment where he could.

 

**********

 

She’d stopped crying from humiliation, but she found herself crying out of frustration when she tried and failed numerous times to successfully navigate a position safe enough in her mind to allow her diaper to come off and not make an awful mess. She’d considered sitting on the toilet but dreaded smashing her mess against the seat, she squatted a few times trying to figure out the best way to lower herself onto her back to remove the diaper, but a few unsteady teeters had frightened her too greatly that she’d fall down on her butt and the diaper would explode like a stepped on ketchup packet, she’d even thought of shimmying it down like underwear, but found Marcus’ tape work to be quite snug indeed.

 

With a sniffle, a trembling bottom lip, and a quickness in her heart’s beating, she shut off the water and put her hand on the doorknob.

 

**********

 

“That was fast!” he called out when he heard the bathroom door open, “I forgot to ask, do you take cream and-” he stopped when he looked up and saw Marisol shuffling toward him, her eyes cast down on the floor, her breath coming out in heaving sobs as she stopped, pigeon toed a few feet from him and reluctantly looked up.

 

“I can’t get it off!” she wailed, clear liquid running from her nose before she sniffed it up and tried to catch her breath as she let out a string of stuttering sobs that sounded like someone was throttling her.

 

His heart broke for her, his assumption that the Talc hadn’t fully left her system and she’d just had a moment of clarity after waking up, and he quickly went to her and, without thinking, bent and picked her up, hugging her to him as her arms and legs wrapped around him instinctively.

 

“Shh, it’s okay, baby.” he whispered, gently patting and rubbing her back, “It wouldn’t make sense for babies to be able to take their diapers off, would it?” he joked.

 

She sniffled, realizing that he thought she was still high given the way he was talking to her and rushing to comfort her like she’d fallen off her tricycle or dropped her ice cream, she thought briefly about setting the record straight, but being in his arms made her feel so safe and loved, something she’d been missing since leaving home. She took stock of the situation, of the pleasant warmth running down her spine as he rubbed her back, she was a grown woman with all her faculties intact, but she was wearing a soiled diaper she couldn’t manage to get off by herself and had an emotional meltdown like a toddler as a result, and Marcus didn’t seem put off by the situation in the slightest, he was just as willing to hold her in his arms as he was to make coffee. Was she a bad person for letting him believe she was still high? Was allowing him to take care of her as though she were a baby even though she wasn’t wrong to do?

 

“C’mon, sweetie, we’ll get you cleaned up, alright?” he rhetorically asked as he started heading toward the bedroom with her.

 

She felt like the door had closed on her chance to argue, to tell him the truth and let him decide whether he was still willing to take care of her or not, when he lay her down on the plastic changing mat on the bed and she looked up at him as he looked down at her and his smile created this pleasant warmth in her stomach, like the nervous fluttering she’d been experiencing was quelled immediately and replaced with something so close to love that she felt her cheeks warm as she smiled back up at him.

 

“Hey, there’s a smile!” he exclaimed in a tone meant for an actual baby to be on the receiving end of as he bent down and gave her sides a little tickle.

 

Being extremely ticklish, she giggled and squirmed the moment his fingers began to dance on her sides, quieting when he gently sat her up and deftly pulled her shirt off before laying her back down and moving to the tapes of her diaper, she whimpered softly, “I’m not high!” she blurted out, eyes shut tight so she didn’t have to see his reaction.

 

The sound of tape pulling apart from plastic broke the momentary silence, “I know.” he said calmly.

 

She opened her eyes and looked up at him, at his smile and blinked in confusion.

 

“Marisol, I spent last night with you, I know what you’re like when you’re high on Talc.” he said as he pulled the front of the diaper away from her and began wiping her clean with the baby wipes, his attention on his task and not on her face, “I thought you were initially, but when I picked you up I knew,” he told her as he lifted her legs and continued cleaning her, “It’s hard to explain, but basically you were stiffer when I held you, like you were conflicted about it rather than happy to have me hold you like you were last night.” he explained.

 

“I was happy to have you hold me.” she said quietly, her eyes once again closed so she didn’t have to see him grimacing as he cleaned her messy behind, which he assumed he was.

 

“Look at me, Marisol.” he gently commanded.

 

She opened her eyes slowly and saw him smiling at her.

 

“I like you.” he said as he finished his work and balled up her diaper with the used wipes inside that he set on the floor beside him, “Is it ideal to be changing your messy diaper?” he asked, “No, it’s not how I’d choose to be spending the morning after spending the night with you for the first time,” he explained as he took a seat on the bed and hefted her up onto his lap, his strong hand gently rubbing her back, “but,” he swallowed hard, “taking care of you is nice.” he said, looking into her eyes as he smiled.

 

Her cheeks burned, “You’re really good at it.” she said, her hand moving to his as it rested on her knee, her thumb softly stroking the back of it.

 

“I’ve had a lot of practice with my siblings over the years.” he reminded her.

 

She nodded softly, “I really like you.” she said, looking down at their hands, “I felt like I ruined everything last night and then kept on ruining it this morning, but you were so caring and patient with all of it that I just-” her words were silenced by his lips on hers.

 

The kiss was everything she’d hoped it would be, electric and deeply fulfilling and served as a final lesson to her that he was in control, her thoughts fizzling away as she melted on his lap, hoping beyond hope that she was making it pleasurable for him, wanting nothing more than to please him and keep him interested in her. Her head swam as his lips parted from hers and she drunkenly looked into his eyes.

 

“You seemed to be spiraling a little and I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while and it seemed like the best way to calm you down.” he explained.

 

She nodded dreamily and wiggled her bottom softly when she felt his stiffness beneath her, “What’s the best way to calm you down?” she whispered, climbing off his lap to kneel between his legs on the floor as she reached up for the zipper of his pants.

 

“Marisol-” he started to protest, but her hands were already around him, pulling him free of his pants.

 

Her eyes lit up at the sight of his cock, perfect in every way she could imagine and she made a soft purring sound as she leaned in and kissed his shaft near the base and kissed her way up to the head, the smell of her used diaper laying beside her filling her with shame as she kissed the head and took him into her mouth.

 

**********

 

They lay together beneath the covers of the bed hours later, his strong arm around her middle as she lay against him as his little spoon, both of them sleeping peacefully after a rigorous sexual decathlon.

 

She’d pleasured him with her mouth until he decided he wanted more and gently guided her from him, the little wet pop of him escaping her mouth, the pout on her face and petulant whimper that came from her being parted from her new toy made his lifting of her from the floor to the bed all the more exhilarating for them both as he stripped quickly and climbed onto the bed atop her, her body quivering with anticipation as she took in the sight of his muscular form and ran a hand over his rock hard chest.

 

He took control of the events without a word and without making it feel like he was dominating her, reducing her to little more than squeals and whimpers of delight as he satisfied her with his mouth, hitting the right speed and pressure immediately to bring her to climax with alarming speed and frequency, and when he entered her, that was nothing short of life changing in her mind. Despite his size in comparison to her, she never felt pain, only wave after wave of unadulterated pleasure as he filled her completely and took her on a spiritual journey with his cock as her guide.

 

As it turned out, Talc wasn’t the only thing that brought out a littleness in her, but sex to that point hadn’t been anything special, mostly just boys fumbling in the dark where Marcus was a man with detailed pussy and clitoris schematics memorized like a bank robber eyeing Fort Knox. She’d screamed ‘Daddy’ more than a few times in the heat of the moment, and when the time came for him to finish, she was so exhausted from all her own orgasms, nothing more than a quivering puddle of satisfied goo, that she moaned as she sucked her thumb and merely smiled up at him dreamily as he pulled out of her and moved up to the head of the bed to replace her thumb with his twitching cock and filled her mouth with the results of their love making, swallowing what she could but ultimately failing in her task leaving her chin and the bed below a mess that he cleaned up for her without missing a beat, playfully teasing her messiness before taking his place behind her as she slipped her thumb back into her mouth and they fell asleep.

 

When he woke up he smiled and basked in the warmth their bodies created, kissing her bare shoulder softly as he listened to her quietly snoring beside him. The kiss brought her out of her slumber and she mewled happily before rolling over to face him, pulling her thumb the rest of the way from her mouth before doing so.

 

“Hi.” he said, brushing her hair from her face.

 

She smiled at him, “Hi.” she said dreamily.

 

They lay in silence together for a long time, looking into each other’s eyes and smiling, neither sure what to say after such an eventful night and morning, but Marisol was the one that finally broke the silence.

 

“Is it possible that Talc just heightens what’s already in a person?” she asked, not really asking him but more throwing the question out as a thought that she’d had and wanted feedback on.

 

He smiled at her, “Anything’s possible.” he said, “We don’t know much about Talc beyond the way people behave when they’re on it, but yeah, if you’re already the kind of person that acts like a baby, it would definitely trigger that.” he said.

 

She thought of Humberto and of her own behavior, “Do you think you could be with me if I was like that?” she asked.

 

“All the time?” he asked.

 

She shrugged and sighed, “You make me feel,” she paused, looking for the right word, “different.” she settled, “No guy has ever done anything for me like you did, and I’ve never called a guy ‘Daddy’ in bed or sucked my thumb during sex.” she explained, feeling increasingly vulnerable as she talked, “But with you, it’s not even a conscious thought, it’s just what feels right.” she added.

 

He nodded softly as he listened.

 

“Like, right now, the room smells like a nursery and brothel had a baby, and I know we need to get up and shower and be productive members of society, but all I can think about is you carrying me to the bathroom and giving me a bath and putting me in another diaper and spending the day with you here.” she confessed.

 

He leaned in and kissed her lips softly, “How much of this is you talking and how much is the aftershocks of the Talc?” he asked, “Or the thing with your brother.” he added.

 

She shrugged and chewed her bottom lip, “Until I know the drug is completely out of my system, I guess I don’t know.” she admitted.

 

He nodded, “Until then, I think we should take things slow and not go down a path we can’t get back from easily.” he explained.

 

She sighed, “I know you’re right, but I just want to pout and whine right now until I get my way.” she admitted.

 

He smirked at her, “Girl, the way I was brought up, that kind of behavior would get you the belt.” he said.

 

She groaned and planted her head against his chest so she was facing the mattress, “Sure, tell me we’re taking it slow and then threaten me with a good time!” she whined.

 

He laughed out loud and lifted her head to look into her eyes, “Taking it slow just means not throwing out all your panties and diving headfirst into being a full time baby,” he explained before kissing her lips softly, failing to keep from smiling when she whimpered softly into his mouth, “I can absolutely spank you if that’s what you really want.” he added, looking at her expectantly.

 

She pouted, “I don’t like this thing where you have all the power and I’m just horny and helpless.” she grumbled.

 

He hefted her up on top of him and put his arms around her waist, “Oh, are you the bossy little princess that runs the show from her playpen?” he teased.

 

She nodded and kissed his chest, “Duh.” she playfully chided him, “I mean, who’s going to be waiting on who hand and foot in this relationship?” she asked.

 

He brushed her hair from her face, “Relationship, huh?” he asked.

 

She looked worried, fearful that she’d overstepped, “I mean-” she started to clarify before he was kissing her once more.

 

“Why don’t we work on keeping your pants dry and clean before we worry about whether we’re going steady or not.” he teased.

 

She stuck out her tongue, “Going steady?” she asked, “How old are you?” she added.

 

He chuckled and reached down to pat her bare behind softly, “Old enough, little girl.” he said with a smile, “Now go have a shower so we can do something more productive than just fall for each other in bed.” he told her.

 

She nodded and slid off of him, crawling backward to the end of the bed where she stood and looked at him for a moment, a smile on her face.

 

“What?” he asked.

 

She giggled, “I really like you.” she said, “I mean, maybe not enough to go steady.” she said, trailing off.

 

He rolled his eyes, “Shower. Now.” he said jovially.

 

She locked her heels together and straightened her back to salute him, “Yes, sir, Daddy, sir!” she barked before breaking into a fit of giggles as she scampered off to the bathroom.

 

Once the door closed, he sighed contentedly, “I’ve been called worse.” he said with a smile.

 

To Be Continued...

[TheUnknownAuthor]

Seven

 

The shower worked wonders to clear her head, the lingering desire to behave younger than she was faded considerably as the hot water washed over her, she found her mind wandering from thoughts of diapers and bottles and cuddles with Marcus to critically analyzing their budding relationship, wondering if he’d be able to see her now without being reminded of her behavior the night before. Her thoughts were interrupted when he entered the bathroom and quickly slipped into the shower behind her, moving the curtain aside to step in and replacing once he’d entered.

 

“Presumptuous, aren’t you?” she asked, drinking in the sight of his nude form.

 

He smiled at her, “I thought it might be quicker if we shared.” he said, putting his hands on her hips.

 

She felt a flutter in her stomach as she looked up at him, “I’m feeling better.” she said.

 

“Yeah?” he asked, shimmying past her as he held her steady so he could get under the water, “Better how?” he asked.

 

Now that her head was clear, her apprehension and shame at mentioning anything about what had happened had returned and she searched for the least embarrassing way to tell him what she was talking about, “You know, with the Talc stuff.” she offered.

 

He nodded as he soaped up his armpits and chest, “So no diaper bag and change of clothes when we go out?” he teased.

 

She felt the heat rise in her cheeks, but chose not to engage his teasing, “Where are we going?” she asked as she turned and got her shampoo from the caddy behind her and squirted a blob of it into her palm before lathering it up.

 

He watched her soap her hair as he rinsed off his body, tracing her delicious curves with his eyes, “Well, I thought we’d go out for lunch but after that I’d kind of planned to see how you were doing before I put too much on your plate.” he explained.

 

“Meaning?” she asked as he shimmied back around her to let her rinse out her hair.

 

He shrugged despite her eyes being closed, “Well, I thought maybe little you would like the zoo or the park and that you’d probably need a nap after all the excitement.” he explained, “But, since you’re all grown up, maybe we can come up with something to do together.” he added.

 

She gave no outward sign that what he’d said meant anything to her, but inside she was a gooey mess of feelings, an ear to ear smile hiding inside of her as she rinsed her hair beneath the water. Marcus was obviously attractive, and great in bed, but the knowledge that he’d considered her mindset when planning their day, making sure to cater to the little girl she’d been the night before despite knowing she was an adult was hands down the sweetest thing any guy had done for her. Wiping the water from her face, she looked up at him, “For the record, big me likes the idea of the zoo.” she said simply.

 

He chuckled softly, “Zoo it is then.” he said as he moved past her to wash his genitals.

 

She kept her eyes on his as he washed himself, “You would’ve taken complete care of me today, wouldn’t you?” she asked.

 

He nodded, “You kinda couldn’t do much for yourself.” he said.

 

She stepped forward and threw her arms around his shoulders as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him deeply, gasping as he lifted her up and held her as he kissed her back, his arms folded beneath her bottom to keep her where she was, “You’re gonna kill us both.” she breathlessly whispered between kisses.

 

He gently set her back down, “So little trust.” he teased as he turned and shut off the water before opening the curtain and stepping out onto the mat in front of the tub, holding his hand out for her to take so she could step out and join him.

 

She gently shook her head, “I trust you completely.” she admitted as she stepped out and grabbed her towels to wrap her hair and body in.

 

He raised an eyebrow, “Completely, you say?” he said.

 

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t go getting any bright ideas, sir.” she playfully chided, “We’re having a grownup day out today.” she reminded him.

 

He nodded, “You’re the boss.” he said, a devious smirk on his face as he picked up a towel for himself from the shelf above the toilet and dried his feet before heading back to the bedroom to dry off.

 

**********

 

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked her as he drove them to the restaurant for lunch.

 

She’d been staring out the window, not looking at anyone or anything, just thinking, but turned to look at him when he broke the silence, “Huh?” she asked.

 

He chuckled, “Where were you just now?” he asked.

 

She shrugged, “Just trying to piece things together.” she vaguely admitted.

 

He stopped at a red light, “Pieces of what?” he prodded, reaching his hand out to her thigh to softly pat it.

 

Her stomach fluttered pleasurably at his touch, “The gangs, Talc, my brother, me.” she admitted, placing her hand on his, “Us.” she added hopefully.

 

The car started rolling forward as the light changed, “Well, the gangs make Talc, your brother probably took some or is taking some, and you’re a smart and beautiful woman with a ruggedly handsome admirer.” he said, “Seems like everything is sorted out.” he added, smiling and squeezing her hand softly before returning his hands to the wheel.

 

She sighed, “If only it was that simple.” she said, “This is a huge story and no one is covering it, why?” she asked.

 

He shrugged, “The gangs aren’t really a threat, I mean, you said you had some trouble with a few of them at the market, but they weren’t armed or anything, right?” he asked.

 

She shook her head, “No, but they were aggressive.” she said.

 

“Like playground bullies, right?” he asked.

 

She nodded.

 

“I’ll bet if I’d been with you they wouldn’t have tried anything.” he said, turning a corner.

 

She smiled as an image of him pushing her in the shopping cart flashed through her mind but quickly pushed it away, “You’re probably right.” she said glumly.

 

The car pulled into the lot of the restaurant and he parked it and shut off the engine, “Hey,” he said, taking her hand again and kissing it softly, “we’ll work the story together.” he said, “Starting tomorrow.” he added, “Today is about our story.” he told her.

 

Her stomach fluttered once more and she felt that pleasant tingle run down her spine from the base of her skull and unbuckled her seatbelt and scooted closer to him and rested her head on his bicep, “How are you so good at this?” she asked.

 

He smiled and softly stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, “You make it easy.” he told her.

 

She sighed contentedly, “New plan,” she said, “drive back to my place and we’ll order food and spend the whole day naked and happy.” she told him.

 

He laughed and patted her hand, “And this is why you’re not in charge.” he told her as he let go of her hand and helped her sit back up before unbuckling his seatbelt.

 

“Am so.” she said, her tongue defiantly sticking out at him.

 

He smirked, “Keep it up and you’ll be eating in a highchair, young lady.” he playfully teased.

 

Her whole body went hot in waves of embarrassment and arousal that she chose to ignore as she opened her door and got out of the car, her thoughts swirling around why she found his playful and empty threat so enticing despite the Talc effects having faded completely from her mind.

 

*********

 

The restaurant was far nicer than the diner they’d eaten at previously, it was romantically lit and the clientele was comprised of business men and women and couples rather than families. When the hostess had greeted them and started heading to their table, she melted when he took her hand, feeling so little beside him as she followed along beside him.

 

The booth they’d been seated at had wine colored upholstery on the backs and plush cream upholstered seats, the sconce on the wall beside them had a fake candle light in it to give the lighting of candlelight without burning the place down, and the table was a rich caramel colored wood making everything seem expensive and lush while also being very warm and inviting.

 

“How many girls have you brought here?” she asked as she picked up the leather backed menu to see what she wanted to order.

 

He didn’t look up from his menu, “Counting you?” he asked rhetorically, “Two.” he said, “I brought my mom here for her birthday a few months back, Frank in the comm room’s cousin owns it.” he explained.

 

She smiled behind her menu, “Good answer.” she told him.

 

The server appeared, smiling warmly at them, “Can I start you off with something to drink?” she asked.

 

“Iced tea, please.” Marisol said when Marcus gestured to her to go first.

 

“I’ll have the same, but with lemon, please.” Marcus said.

 

The server jotted down the drinks and nodded, “I’ll be right back with those.” she said before leaving.

 

“Anything sound good to you?” he asked.

 

She was looking at the menu and weighing the messiness of each item, wanting to avoid getting sauce or food on herself and looking foolish, chiding herself for wearing a light colored blue top and white pants of all things to an Italian restaurant, “Um, it all looks good.” she said noncommittally.

 

“The eggplant Parm is really good.” he told her without looking up from his menu.

 

She wrinkle her nose at the suggestion, “I’ll probably get the chicken Alfredo.” she said.

 

Their drinks arrived and they ordered, her the chicken Alfredo and him the eggplant Parm and then they were alone looking at one another across the table.

 

He smiled at her, “Nervous?” he asked.

 

She shook her head, “We’ve gotten a lot of ‘die of embarrassment if it happens in front of him’ stuff out of the way already.” she said, her cheeks warming at the thought of all the ways she’d humiliated herself in front of him in such a short amount of time.

 

He reached out his hand and placed it on hers, “And here we are.” he said, “I didn’t run away.” he reminded her.

 

She smiled without looking up at him, “Why didn’t you?” she asked.

 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

 

She looked up slowly, “I mean, any other normal guy would’ve noped out immediately, but you not only stayed, you leaned into it.” she said.

 

He shrugged, “I told you, big family, lots of experience.” he reminded her.

 

“Right, but family and real babies are pretty different from girl you want to sleep with.” she said.

 

He smirked, “Not to me.” he said, “You needed someone and I was there, and I’d already caught feelings for you, so it wasn’t all that hard.” he explained.

 

“And the teasing and threatening me with a highchair?” she asked, “I’m not high anymore, so what was that?” she asked.

 

He leaned back and smiled, “Did you not like it?” he asked.

 

She cleared her throat, “Not the point.” she said.

 

“Look, it’s okay to feel sexy feelings about this stuff, it’s a sexual thing for some people.” he said.

 

She stared at him, “Is that what this is?” she asked, “Are you one of those people?” she asked without allowing him to answer the first question.

 

He shrugged again, “I definitely wasn’t not turned on by what happened last night.” he told her without a hint of shame.

 

Waves of heat ran through her body once more and she grabbed her glass of tea and took several large gulps to cool herself down.

 

“I’m guessing you feel something similar?” he asked.

 

She wanted to tell him the random thoughts and fantasies she’d been having, wanted to confess and share in his openness, but decades of growing up to be silent about sex kept her drinking her tea without uttering a word.

 

He smiled and leaned forward so only she could hear him, “How about this,” he said, “I’ll ask you twenty questions, and all you have to do is nod or shake your head to answer,” he explained, “if I can correctly give a name to what you are then you agree to do what I say today.” he told her.

 

She set her tea back down, “And if you can’t?” she asked.

 

He shrugged, “What do you want your prize to be for winning?” he asked.

 

The server returned with their food, sizable plates of saucy pasta for her and a hunk of lasagna like eggplant parm for him. Once the server left they began to eat, with her taking small bites and doing her best to keep her face and clothes clean as he ate casually and periodically took notice of her eating habits.

 

“Are you afraid of making a mess?” he asked, holding up one finger to illustrate that it was in fact his first question.

 

She nodded softly.

 

He took a bite of food, “Because of what happened at the diner?” he asked, raising a second finger.

 

She shook her head softly.

 

He smiled, “Because you’re not always a clean eater?” he asked, a third finger rising.

 

She nodded softly and felt the heat roll through her body, her stomach fluttering wildly as she looked down at her plate of food.

 

“Would you feel better if I fed you?” he asked, a fourth finger extending.

 

She chewed her bottom lip and felt her head nodding, feeling like she’d lost control of herself once he’d suggested feeding her.

 

He smiled at her, “If you ask me nicely I will.” he told her.

 

She moved her fork around her pasta aimlessly but remained silent, wishing she could just look up at him and say the words she wanted to say but couldn’t bring herself to.

 

“Do you actually want today to be a grownup day out?” he asked, raising his last finger on the hand he wasn’t using to hold his fork.

 

Her heart was racing and her stomach was fluttering as she stared into the tangle of pasta, she’d fought so hard to convince herself that with the Talc out of her system she could go back to being her normal self with him, but the more she thought about the night before and about her brother, the more she wondered if she maybe hadn’t been mistaken as to which her felt more right to be. She looked up from her plate and into his eyes, he’d caught feelings for her when they’d been normal adult coworkers, but he’d stayed and taken care of her when she needed him and sex had followed shortly afterward, so she wasn’t sure which her he was more attracted to.

 

He sipped his tea casually, “Awful lot of thought for a simple question.” he mused aloud.

 

She looked back down at her plate, hating how calm he was while she was tearing herself apart inside grappling with unpacking all her thoughts and feelings about where she stood in the grand scheme of things. She sighed softly, “It’s not a simple question.” she finally said.

 

He picked his fork back up, “Is it not?” he asked.

 

She looked up at him, “No!” she whined, louder than she’d intended to, looking around nervously at the other patrons, relieved that none of them cast a look in her direction.

 

He looked around the restaurant with her and smiled, “No one cares.” he said. “We live in a city plagued by gangs that dress and act like babies that peddle a drug that makes the user uncontrollably behave that way for real and everyone’s just kind of accepted it.” he explained.

 

She stared at him, wanting not to believe him, but after seeing the girl in the diner and the women at the market, she knew he was right.

 

He leaned forward, “You’re an adult baby, Mari.” he said softly, “Talc heightened something that was already in you, maybe something you didn’t realize was there.” he continued, reaching out to place his hand on hers, “Your brother obviously is too, but he’s more accepting of it because he’s always been the less mature of you two, right?” he asked.

 

She nodded absently, his words reaching into her mind and untangling things at such a speed that she was amazed at how clearly she could think now and how right he was with his assessment of her.

 

“I think you’re seeing him indulging in the life you want and are jealous but unable to admit it to yourself because you’ve always been the smart and mature one.” he said, “I think that when the Talc was in your system it broke down your mental block about allowing you to-”

 

She looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

 

“Hey, don’t cry, it’s-” he started to say.

 

She smiled, tears rolling down her cheeks, “Happy tears.” she managed to say as her bottom lip trembled, “You’re right.” she said.

 

“About which part?” he asked.

 

She chuckled and sobbed at the same time, making a weird sound that surprised them both, a wet choking sound that blossomed into a light and happy laugh, “All of it.” she said. “All morning I’ve been seeing these flashes of us together, but their never as equals or a couple, they’re me in the seat of the shopping cart with you pushing, me in a highchair in the restaurant with you feeding me, me riding piggyback on you at the zoo.” she confessed, feeling the stone in her chest shift and shatter, allowing her to take a full breath. “I’m an adult baby and I want you to be my Daddy.” she said, wiping her eyes.

 

The server cleared her throat, looking so uncomfortable awkwardly standing in the fallout of what Marisol had said, “E-everything okay here?” she stammered.

 

Marcus smiled up at her and nodded, “Just fine.” he said.

 

The server nodded decisively and turned and scurried away.

 

Marisol’s mouth hung open in disbelief, her cheeks blazing with shame.

 

“You just came out as an adult baby to the guy you like and a complete stranger, how do you feel?” he asked her.

 

She slowly closed her mouth and smiled at him, “Like I want Daddy to feed me my lunch and take me back home and get me properly dressed for a baby day at the zoo.” she told him, her shame dissolving into a bubbly happiness that brought the most innocent giggle from her lips as Marcus slid from his side of the booth and came to sit beside her, tucking her cloth napkin into her shirt as a makeshift bib before he began feeding her her lunch.

 

**********

 

After lunch, they returned to her apartment where they celebrated her newfound understanding of herself with much nudity and interconnecting of their intimate parts, and by the time he was helping her out of the tub after getting her cleaned up, and carrying her back to the bed, she was feeling a similar sensation to when she’d been high on Talc but with all her faculties. She was mentally present as he carried her and gently lay her down on the bed, she adored the little tickles he delivered to the bottoms of her feet as he dried her off or the raspberry he blew on her stomach when he declared her dry and started gathering the supplies to diaper her, she wasn’t sucking her thumb as she watched him care for her because her body had defaulted to infantile behavior without her consent, she was sucking her thumb because she was content and immersing herself in all the trappings she’d found pleasant in being a baby.

 

Once she was diapered, he dressed her in the clothes she’d worn to the restaurant, her white pants struggling to fit over the new bulk she wore, but he got them on and she payed no attention to the fact that it was obvious she was wearing a diaper from the bulge to the rustling sound of plastic that came with every step to the inch and a half of diaper that stuck out above the waistline of her jeans because once she was dressed he was holding her in his arms again, rubbing her back softly and telling her sweet things a Daddy would tell his baby girl. She melted in his arms, slipping effortlessly into the role of baby as she was bolstered by his strong arms and loving embrace, his deep voice penetrating her mind and turning back the clock as he set her down, took her hand in his and led her, toddling giddily beside him back to the car, a grocery bag with two diapers and the changing supplies in his other hand.

 

He buckled her into the backseat for the ride to the zoo, and slid the lavender shielded pacifier into her waiting mouth before he kissed her forehead and backed out smiling at her as he closed the door. She was wiggling her feet happily as she wet her diaper after thinking about doing it the whole way from the apartment to the car, and as the warmth pooled around her and she sucked her pacifier, she felt like her mind was a bushel of balloons being released into the sky, her thoughts stayed together, coherent for a time, but began to separate, going off into many different directions as they got smaller and smaller in the vastness of the sky, some popping never to be seen or heard from again, and some just fading away as the distance became to great to find them again.

 

“Who’s a happy girl?” he asked from the front of the car, half turning to gently pat her knee.

 

“Me!” she burbled, bouncing in her seat and giggling at the squish of her now wet diaper beneath her.

 

After they got on the road he looked back at her in the mirror, “Penny for your thoughts, Mari.” he said warmly.

 

She met his gaze and giggled, “I wetted my diaper, Daddy.” she told him, beaming proudly behind her pacifier.

 

He chuckled, “That sounds a lot better than what you were thinking about before, huh?” he asked.

 

She nodded but turned her attention to a playground they were passing, “Daddy, wanna swing!” she exclaimed, bouncing in her seat excitedly.

 

“Maybe tomorrow, baby, we’re going to the zoo, remember?” he asked her.

 

She giggled and nodded, “Aminals!” she clumsily squealed.

 

He smiled back at her, “Animals, baby.” he gently corrected.

 

She giggled again, “Dat’s what I said, Daddy!” she insisted.

 

He nodded once and turned his attention to the road, taking the exit to the zoo.

 

Once she was out of the car and holding his hand in the parking lot, the zoo a few hundred feet away, she was a ball of energy that he calmed by kneeling down and having her climb onto his back for a piggyback ride serenaded by giggles and cheers that almost made her lose her pacifier. By that point, the amount of diaper showing above her pants was almost doubled, her shirt having gotten trapped behind her diaper making it obvious she was little more than an overgrown baby, whether you noticed her behavior or the pacifier in her mouth or not, but Marisol was oblivious to the rest of the world, all she knew was the zoo entrance was getting closer and Daddy was carrying her.

 

The attendant at the gate smiled at them, “Welcome!” he greeted warmly, the deep creases of his laugh lines becoming impossible to ignore.

 

“We’re meeting someone and should have tickets waiting for us.” Marcus told the man.

 

“Yes sir, what’s the name?” the attendant asked.

 

“Briggs.” Marcus said.

 

The man typed into the computer, “Looks like a Rosario and Humberto Briggs checked in about twenty minutes ago under an adult and child ticket and I have another adult and child ticket for Marcus and Marisol.” he explained.

 

Marcus nodded and fished his wallet from his pocket, showing the man his ID first and then Marisol’s.

 

The man looked at the ID’s and then at the pair in front of him and marked the tickets as claimed before opening a drawer and pulling out a pink wristband, “Can I see your arm, little lady?” he asked Marisol.

 

Marcus stooped forward as Marisol obediently extended her arm, the silicone band sliding over her hand, the word ‘BABY’ stamped across the center of it.

 

A white wristband came from the drawer next and Marcus allowed the man to slide it onto his wrist, the word ‘ADULT’ stamped across the middle of it.

 

“Mrs. Briggs said she’d be waiting at the cafe near the entrance.” the man said.

 

Marcus nodded, “Say thank you, baby.” he urged Marisol.

 

“Fankoo mista.” Marisol chirped obediently.

 

Walking through the turnstyle, Marcus looked around for the previously mentioned cafe, and saw Marisol’s mother and brother seated at a table outside beneath an umbrella. As he approached he could see that Humberto was in one of the two seats of the adult sized stroller, his bare feet dangling limply as he slept peacefully, the baby blue pacifier in his mouth rhythmically bobbing.

 

When Marisol’s mother saw them, her face lit up behind her sunglasses, and she covered her smiling mouth with both hands as she stood to greet them.

 

“Mami?” Marisol asked.

 

Marisol’s mother launched into a string of Spanish coos and adoration as she approached them and kissed Marcus on both cheeks before he knelt down to let Marisol off his back and her mother hugged her tightly and fawned over her.

 

“Whatchoo doin’ here, Mami?” Marisol asked.

 

Her mother took off her sunglasses and held her daughter’s hands in her own, “Mommy’s here to take you home, baby.” she cooed, gently guiding Marisol toward the table.

 

Marisol looked at Marcus and her mother in confusion as she was guided down into the stroller beside her peacefully sleeping brother and strapped and buckled in with the three point harness.

 

“The money will be in your account once you leave the zoo.” Marcus said quietly, “I don’t need to remind you what happens if she comes back and tries to make problems, do I?” he asked.

 

Rosario shook her head vehemently, “She’ll be no trouble for you or your boss.” she insisted.

 

Marisol looked from her mother to Marcus, her mind trying to comprehend what was happening.

 

“She got a dose at the restaurant a few hours ago,” Marcus said, “make sure she has another dose within the hour to keep her from causing you any trouble.” he explained.

 

Rosario nodded and half turned to fish in the large diaper bag on the table to produce a bottle with a pink plastic cap, “It’s so warm out, baby, have a drink.” she cooed as she popped the cap off and pulled Marisol’s pacifier from her mouth to easily replace with the nipple of the bottle.

 

The liquid inside the bottle was cool and refreshing and whatever concerns or confusions she was experiencing faded as she greedily suckled the juice within.

 

Marcus sighed and nodded, kneeling in front of the stroller to gently stroke Marisol’s hair, “Be a good girl for your Mommy, okay?” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he rose and kissed the top of her head, clearing his throat as he turned back to Rosario, “I’ll visit in a week to make sure you’re holding up your end of the deal.” he said, looking over at the increasingly relaxing Marisol, “Make sure she knows I care about her if she asks.” he added.

 

Rosario nodded, “Maybe when all of this is over-” she started to say before he stopped her.

 

“We shouldn’t make plans if we can’t be sure we’ll be able to honor them.” he told her, giving one final look toward Marisol and smiling sadly at her as she slipped off to sleep lazily holding her bottle, “But if there’s a way this ends well, I’ll be back for her.” he added before walking away.

 

Rosario watched him depart and breathed a sigh of relief once he was gone and turned to her children, her heart swelling with maternal love as she beheld her sleeping babies in their stroller. Pulling out her phone, she snapped several pictures and posted them to her social media pages with the caption, “Familia Completa.” before she went back into the diaper bag for the outfit she’d made and packed for her daughter and made sure it was on top with a fresh diaper before she went around the back of the stroller and put the bag in the basket below and pushed her darling babies toward the family restroom to remove the last remnants of her daughter’s adult life and dress her for her new role as Baby Mari.

 

To Be Continued...

[Guilend]

Noooooooo this is not right. My heart is broken ????

[TheUnknownAuthor]

22 hours ago, Guilend said:

Noooooooo this is not right. My heart is broken ????

That's what Marisol said...too soon?

Man, I don't know what's gonna happen here, but I'll bet another chapter would provide some comfort...unless it ends up making things worse, which it might, best to read it and find out I suppose!

 

Chapter 8

 

He almost looked back at her as he retraced his steps to the entrance of the zoo, but knew that seeing her again would most assuredly change his mind and put them both at risk. He almost went back for her when he reached the turnstyles, thought of rushing to her and snatching her up to take her on the run with him and keep her safe, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to protect them for long until they were inevitably caught and permanently dealt with. The side of his car took the brunt of his rage and frustration as he kicked at it repeatedly and tore the side mirror off as he roared in futile anger and got back into the car before he ultimately broke down into sobs when he smelled the lingering perfume of baby powder and urine that she’d left behind in the back seat and looked back to find the space she’d been sitting devoid of her face smiling at him, trusting him, loving him.

 

His phone chimed in his pocket and he begrudgingly pulled it out and typed a quick reply to the question regarding the completion of his task. He hated himself for abandoning her, whether it was for the best or not, because his own father had abandoned him and his family when he was too little to understand what was happening, his only hope was that the Talc would erode him from her memory and she’d be happy with her birth family and not recall that she’d had someone else that loved her and took care of her.

 

He sighed wearily and started the car, resolved to drive to the nearest bar and drown his sorrows until the ache in his chest dulled to a point that he could function normally again. He glanced at the glovebox for a moment and shook the thoughts of using the gun within to solve his problems out of his mind, resolute that he’d get through all of what lay ahead and return to Marisol when things were safe to do so.

 

**********

 

Rosario hummed softly to her daughter as she undressed her in the family bathroom, the dead weight of the sleeping woman made moving her nearly impossible, but mother’s find ways of caring for their babies any way they can, and the stroller became a mobile changing station once the wheels were locked. She leaned her daughter forward and moved her like one would a doll until she was naked save for the generic diaper taped around her waist, the deep yellow in the crotch curling her lips into a smile as her heart melted at having her baby girl back.

 

As her mother deftly changed her while she sat asleep in the stroller, Marisol dreamed. Her dreams weren’t coherent, the Talc saw to that, but she understood some of what she was seeing. She was standing in a field, her white dress flowing down her body and across the ground behind her like she was a cake with icing adorning her in such beautiful detail that despite how sweet and delightful it would be to dig your hand into it and eat it, you couldn’t stand to mar the elegant design. Daddy was standing with her, holding her hands and telling her things she couldn’t understand but that made her feel good, but then Daddy was gone and she was cold and afraid and her dress was in tatters and she was crying and Mommy was rushing to her.

 

Rosario stood back and admired her handiwork, looking at the photo on her phone screen as reference and beamed proudly. The photo was of her and her husband with their then infant son and daughter at a family function they’d been at, Humberto and Marisol were strapped into their dual stroller, much as they were now, Humberto was dressed in a matching shorts and shirt combo designed to look like a baseball uniform, his name written on the back with his age, 01 as the number both on the back and the breast, his little head was covered with a blue and white cap to synchronize with the colors of the main outfit and his powder blue pacifier hung limply from the corner of his mouth as he slept soundly. She’d replicated her son’s outfit to a tee, changing the number to match his current age and sizing the shorts so they hugged the thick padding beneath as they had when he was an actual infant. Baby Marisol in the photo was dressed in a pink and white checkered jumper with adorable ruffled, pink bloomers on over her own diapers, her socks were frilled at the ankles and she had the most darling little pink patent leather shoes on. Adult Marisol was dressed identically to her former self, but now that she had more hair, her mother had done it into lovely pigtails and secured them with pink ribbons to match her outfit.

 

Rosario snapped a photo of her babies once she’d gotten the changing supplies back into the diaper bag and caught her breath, sending the photo to her husband first for his approval, then to Marcus as a way of allaying his apprehensions about turning Marisol over to her, and finally to the man that had showed up on their doorstep less than an hour after Marisol had left home to start her new life and career in the city to fulfill her end of the arrangement they’d made that day. Her husband praised her for her attention to detail, Marcus didn’t respond, and the man she and her husband had met with responded with a link that sent the agreed upon amount of half a million dollars into their bank account.

 

Hombre De Negro: Very good, Mrs. Briggs. I trust I don’t need to remind you what will happen should your daughter suddenly grow up and return to work.

 

Rosario: No, she will be no trouble, sir.

 

Hombre De Negro: There will come a point when you’ll no longer need to keep her as she is, I will let you know when that point is, but we will be watching until then.

 

She shuddered as she slipped her phone back into her purse, performing the mark of the cross on herself before looking over at her sleeping children, her fears for their safety diminishing as her maternal instincts shook off whatever cobwebs lingered since Humberto had started his journey back to infancy and she rose to give her little ones a fun filled day at the zoo.

 

**********

 

Marcus sighed as he looked at the picture Marisol’s mother had sent and downed the shot of Whiskey in front of him, “Keep ‘em comin’, Don.” he grumbled.

 

Don refilled the shot glass and leaned over the bar to get a look at the phone screen, “For what it’s worth, you did the right thing, kid.” he said, “Girl’s gonna be safe and happy with her family.” he added.

 

Marcus glowered at him, “She was under the impression that I’d be her family.” he said.

 

Don nodded and put his hand on Marcus’ shoulder, “And one day maybe you can be.” he said, the threat of hopefulness tinging his voice.

 

Marcus scoffed, “Right, because I can show up after she’s had her brain melted down into nothing and just pick up where we left off.” he sneered.

 

Don smiled, “Kid, if this city has taught me anything, it’s that stranger things can and probably will always happen.” he said.

 

Downing another shot, Marcus rose from his stool, “Gotta piss.” he grumbled, heading to the back of the bar and into the men’s room where he sidled up to the urinal and unzipped his pants.

 

The door opened behind him, hard soled shoes sticking and tapping on the disgusting floor as the person entered, “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now,” the man’s voice said, “but you made the right choice.” he added.

 

Marcus shuddered when he heard the man, his voice deep and rumbling despite being quiet, “Come to kick me while I’m down?” he asked as he urinated onto the bright orange cake in the basin of the urinal.

 

“On the contrary,” the man said, his tone almost brightening, “I come bearing gifts.” he said.

 

Marcus finished peeing and tucked himself back into his underwear and pants before zipping up and turning around to face the man, “Yeah?” he asked as he went to wash his hands.

 

The man moved his position so Marcus could see him in the mirror and reached into his jacket pocket, the finely made suit he wore looked incredibly out of place in the third world country of a bathroom, his leather gloved hand pulling out a fairly thick envelope, “The agreed upon fee.” he said, setting the envelope down on top of the trashcan beside him, “And as a way of letting you know we’re not complete monsters,” he continued, fishing a black leather case similar to one that would contain glasses from the other side of his jacket which he set on top of the envelope.

 

“What’s that?” Marcus asked warily.

 

The man smiled, his perfect white teeth standing out in the yellowed, well, everything of the bathroom, “That, my boy, is the key to your and Marisol’s happy ending once this is all said and done.” he cryptically replied, “Follow the instructions in the case and she’ll be back to her normal adult self in less than a week.” he explained, “Or,” he smirked, “you can keep her as she is now, whatever gets your rocks off.” he added with a wink.

 

Marcus envisioned crossing the room and punching the smug face of the man until there wasn’t enough left to fill a shot glass, but he calmed himself, “So, I’m done then?” he asked.

 

The man nodded, “Your part in this is over, my boy.” the man said.

 

“Not your fuckin’ boy, you pasty fuck.” Marcus hissed.

 

The man smiled again, “Stay away from the girl and her family until you hear otherwise.” the man warned, “Wouldn’t want little Mari to lose her new Daddy so soon after finding him after all.” he added before he headed to the door.

 

“I know you’re not going to tell me, but why her?” Marcus asked.

 

The man turned and removed his sunglasses, his steel gray eyes looking at Marcus as though he were sizing him up, evaluating him, “You’re a bright young man, Marcus, I’m sure it won’t take long for things to click into place for you, until then though, keep a low profile.” he warned before leaving the bathroom.

 

Marcus breathed a sigh of relief and went to the trashcan, picking up both items the man had left, the envelope he knew contained $40,000, but the small case he found contained a cylindrical tube of clear liquid and instructions on the lid for doses and duration of giving them for desired effect. He put the case to his chest, “I’ll make this right, Mari, I promise.” he thought, hoping he could will his inner thoughts to Marisol somehow.

 

**********

 

“WAN DAYEE!” Marisol wailed at the top of her lungs over and over again outside the Hippopotamus enclosure. The pair in the stroller had woken up nearly at the same time, while Rosario was steering them down the slightly bumpy path of decorative pave stones adorned with animal footprints, and ‘Berto gurgled happily when he saw his sister, rocking the stroller as he excitedly bounced in his seat, but Mari had woken with remnants of her past life still lingering in the tendrils of sleep that clung to her mind and started to whimper and struggle in her seat, culminating in the full blast assault of her infantile speech carrying throughout the area and making all eyes turn to the frazzled mother of two adult babies.

 

“Baby, it’s okay, shh, we’ll see your daddy when we get home.” Rosario assured her, kneeling down in front of the girl to grab for the pacifier hanging from her dress.

 

The problem Marisol was experiencing was that she had flashes of her life as an adult and a belief that she still held the same abilities she had only a few hours prior, but as she struggled against the three point harness securing her in the stroller, she balled her fist and swung at her mother in a fit of adult rage, this is when she was shown that an adult body doesn’t mean adult strength or coordination as her mother recognized the gesture for what it was and easily and gently grasped her daughter’s hand in her own and kissed the back of it softly.

 

“Mari, hitting is naughty, recordar?” she calmly chided as she retrieved the pacifier and inserted into her daughter’s mouth.

 

Marisol began to suck the teat of the pacifier the moment it crossed her lips, and began to calm immediately, her tantrum and the reason for it forgotten as her focus reset itself on ‘Berto beside her and her mother in front of her. She burbled happily at her mother and took her brother’s hand clumsily in her own when he rested his head lovingly on her shoulder and started picking his nose.

 

“Aye, ‘Berto, no mining for gold today.” Rosario said, pulling his hand away from his face and adjusting his pacifier for him to suck on it.

 

Rising to her feet, Rosario sighed, pleased with herself for quelling the first of what she hoped would be few tantrums because of things that no longer concerned her daughter.

 

“Quite a set of lungs on her.” a man’s voice said.

 

Turning, Rosario found a tall man with muscles nearly as big around as her thighs standing with another young man riding piggyback on him. The tall man’s wrist had the same white band she wore with ‘ADULT’ stamped on the center, while the young man he carried had a baby blue band she knew declared him a ‘BABY’.

 

Rosario chuckled softly, “I know, lo siento,” she said, “I’m sorry.” she clarified, guessing the gringo didn’t understand Spanish.

 

The brown haired man smiled warmly, his short brown hair was neatly brushed and parted while the young man with him had unkempt blonde locks.

 

“He’s cute.” Rosario said, gesturing to the younger man.

 

The tall man nodded and knelt down to set the young man on his feet before rising again and taking his hand, “You got a compliment, Robert, what do you say to the nice lady?” the tall man asked his charge.

 

Robert stood shorter than even Rosario by a few inches, his denim shortalls adorned with a cartoon airplane on the bib, his knees dirty from playing or crawling, one sporting a Scooby-Doo bandaid that brought a smile to Rosario’s face as she looked at him nervously cuddle against the taller man’s side.

 

“He’s shy with new people.” the tall man explained, tousling Robert’s shaggy hair lovingly, “I’m Scott, by the way.” he said, extending his hand to her.

 

Rosario nodded politely and shook his hand, “Rosario, and those two are Marisol and Humberto.” she said, gesturing back to her kids.

 

Scott smiled and gave a little wave to the stroller’s occupants, “Twins, huh?” he asked.

 

She nodded, “Si, they weren’t the easiest thing to bring into this world, but I don’t know what I’d do without them.” she said.

 

Scott looked surprised, “Oh, they’re your biological kids!” he said, sounding astonished, “Pretty young woman like you, I thought you were just babysitting after school.” he told her.

 

Rosario rolled her eyes and chuckled, “You’re sweet, but don’t waste that kind of thing on an old lady like me.” she told him.

 

Scott smiled, “Fair enough.” he said.

 

Robert started tugging on Scott’s shirt, “Daddy, I gotta poop.” he said bluntly.

 

Scott and Rosario laughed together, “Well, that’s apparently my cue.” Scott said, “Enjoy the zoo.” he said as he turned and led Robert away.

 

“You too, it was nice meeting you both!” she called out, waving when Scott half turned and waved to her. She missed interactions like that, one parent to another was a nice break from babytalk and silly voices. Her husband wasn’t hands on with the kids, never really had been, and she’d always felt a bit alone when it came to parenting.

 

She heard grunting behind her and turned to see ‘Berto leaning away from his sister, his eyes closed and face scrunched up as he tried to fill his diaper. Sighing softly, she went back to her babies and knelt beside her son and stroked his hair softly, praising and encouraging him quietly until he was done and settled back into his seat. “You can wait until your sister needs a change, ‘Berto.” she told him, leaning in to kiss his forehead before she got up to resume their journey.

 

**********

 

Marcus stumbled into his apartment and fumbled with the door lock for a moment before it clicked into place and he made his way down the narrow hall to his living room and flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

 

“Rough day?” came the quiet female voice from behind him.

 

He grunted an affirmative and strained to roll over to face her.

 

Just a hair shorter than Marisol, the young woman stood at the end of the hallway, the dim lighting keeping her mostly in shadow.

 

“What are you doing up?” he groaned, “Wait, what time even is it?” he asked aloud as he fumbled for his phone and saw the photo of Marisol again and dropped it to the floor with a sigh.

 

The girl approached slowly, almost timidly and retrieved his phone from the carpet, looking at it before she set it on the coffee table, “It’s almost nine.” she informed him, “Is that her?” she asked.

 

Marcus had his arm draped over his eyes as he nodded, “Are you dressed for bed?” he asked.

 

“Yes, sir.” the girl said quietly.

 

Sitting up with another groan, he looked at her standing beside the coffee table and smiled, patting his lap softly as he shifted on the couch with his back against it and pulled her into a hug and onto his lap as she approached.

 

“Did you eat?” he asked her.

 

She nodded as she lay her back against his chest.

 

“What’d you eat, baby girl?” he asked her.

 

She brought the stuffed rabbit she’d been carrying up to her chest and cuddled it tightly, “Chicken nuggets and mac and cheese.” she told him.

 

He nodded, “Did Ms. Rollins help you with the stove?” he asked.

 

She nodded, “She came over and made it for me.” she told him.

 

He put his arms around her middle and sighed contentedly, “You smell good, she give you a bath too?” he asked, the smells of cocoa butter and baby powder filling his nostrils.

 

She giggled softly and nodded, “Yes, sir.” she said politely.

 

He made an approving groan, “Did your hair all nice too? Damn, little one, you’re all set for landing a husband.” he teased, tickling her stomach through her thin white nightgown with little purple and pink flowers on it.

 

She giggled again and squirmed on his lap, the overnight bulk secured around her waist rustling noisily as she wiggled against his fingers.

 

He stopped tickling her and kissed the top of her head, “Why don’t we say goodnight to Mama and get you tucked in?” he suggested.

 

She nodded and slipped off his lap, letting him take her hand in his as he led the way down the hall to her room, stopping at the little alcove with the white ceramic urn inside and the picture of an older woman hanging above it, the little light in the top of the alcove bathing the display in a Heavenly glow.

 

“Goodnight, Mama.” the girl said softly, leaning forward to kiss the urn.

 

He nodded approvingly, “Good girl.” he praised her as he continued on to her room and opened the door.

 

The nightlight beside the door showed him that she’d cleaned up her toys, probably at the insistence of their neighbor Ms. Rollins, and the scent of the powder used when she’d been dressed for bed still hung in the air masking the scent from the bin by the changing table that he reminded himself to empty in the morning as he led her to the bed with the little rails on the sides across the room and scooped her up to gently lay her down and tuck her in as he knelt beside it and cupped her cheek with his hand.

 

“I’m sorry about your friend.” she said in the middle of a quiet yawn.

 

He nodded, “Me too, little one, me too.” he said sadly.

 

She raised herself and kissed his cheek, “I wish I’d gotten to meet her.” she said sleepily as she lay back down on the pillow.

 

He kissed her forehead, “She would’ve loved you just as much as I do.” he told her.

 

She nodded and cuddled her stuffed bunny, slipping her thumb into her mouth as she closed her eyes and got comfortable, “Wuv yoo, big bwover.” she dreamily told him.

 

He gave the blanket a final tuck and gave her padded bottom a soft pat, “Love you too, baby sister.” he said before he rose and made his way out of the room and back to the living room to pass out on the couch, stopping at his mother’s urn on the way, “I’m sorry if I disappointed you today, Mama.” he said to the urn, the ache in his heart bringing a hard lump to his throat, “I just wish you could tell me if I did the right thing or not.” he lamented, sighing when silence responded and he went back to the couch to break down and cry himself to sleep.

 

To Be Continued...

[Guilend]

It did make it a little bit better. But I’m still mad at him for his betrayal. Her mommy needs a good spanking and diaper humiliation. 

[TheUnknownAuthor]

On 1/12/2023 at 5:30 PM, Guilend said:

It did make it a little bit better. But I’m still mad at him for his betrayal. Her mommy needs a good spanking and diaper humiliation. 

In another story perhaps...

 

Chapter 9

 

“In other news, State Senator Marvin Jenkins will meet with Governor Mayhew to discuss a broad range of topics, but the focus of their meeting is expected to be Proposition Four, which is touted to not only combat the city’s gang related problems, but also provide much needed assistance for those families that have been affected by the drug Talc, which has become a significant issue in recent months.” the news anchor reported.

 

“Shh!” she hissed quietly, finger to her lips as she looked at the TV in the living room sternly, looking over her shoulder at Marcus sleeping on the couch.

 

There had been a time, not long ago, that Kiesha, Marcus’ younger sister, had been on track to get out of the city and do something great with her life. Colleges wanted her, numerous scholarships had arrived in the mail and she and her family were thrilled that her hard work had finally bore fruit, so she decided to put off making a decision for a night and go out to celebrate with her friends. She’d met a guy at the bar and missed him spiking her drink with Talc, and ended up left in the alley behind the club half naked and mentally regressed, wailing like an infant as she shivered on the cold wet asphalt.

 

Keisha never did accept one of her scholarship offers, her ability to read the letters was nearly eradicated, and unless the university accepted correspondences written in crayon with drool or food spots on them, she’d never write a response to them. The man that had spiked her drink had done so with pure Talc, not the same form that was so prevalent today, “stepped on” to give a euphoric high of babyish bliss with side effects only persisting with prolonged exposure. Her mind and body had been destroyed in one night and only now was she beginning to show signs of being able to relearn things she’d already mastered once before.

 

“What are you doing up, little one?” Marcus groaned, his voice thick with sleep and a hangover.

 

Keisha turned and crawled to him, “I wanted to watch cartoons but the poopy news is on.” she told him, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.” she said timidly, pouting as she cast her gaze down on the carpet.

 

He summoned the energy to sit himself up, putting his head against the wall to anchor it as the room spun, “Gimme a second, I’ll get you set up.” he told her.

 

Crawling had come first for her, her coordination returning slowly to allow her, like a real baby, to roll over on her own and then elevate herself onto all fours and eventually propel herself around, and shaky walking came after that, using furniture or someone’s hand for stability. At this point in her rehabilitation process, she was mentally and emotionally on the level of a three or four year old most of the time but with increasingly more frequent moments of her true age flitting in and out, which caused her the most frustration and pain when she fully grasped all that she’d lost.

 

Marcus pulled her up from the floor in front of him and onto his lap, gently taking the remote from her and flipping to the cartoons she wanted before setting the remote aside and holding her, rocking her body with his own, “Sleep good?” he asked.

 

She nodded absently, her eyes glued to the cartoons.

 

He smiled groggily, “I rented out your room to a family of spiders.” he said, testing to see if she was listening.

 

Her thumb had slipped into her mouth as she nodded a little slower.

 

“Big ones, with sharp fangs and an appetite for soggy bottoms.” he continued, checking her sodden diaper with his fingers.

 

He wasn’t anywhere near awake enough to carry her to the changing table and get her cleaned up and dressed for the day, but the dim light outside let him know that it was still too early for that to be an issue, so he just lay her back against his chest and kissed her cheek from behind as he cuddled her and eventually fell back to sleep.

 

**********

 

The baby monitor beside the bed crackled to life with Marisol’s cries, rousing both Rosario and David from their peaceful slumber. Rosario looked at the clock and groaned as her husband’s hand found her shoulder in the dark.

 

“I’ll go, you sleep.” he told her, kissing her shoulder once he moved his hand away.

 

Despite being half asleep, Rosario was still stunned that her husband even woke up to their daughter’s cries, let alone was willingly getting up to deal with whatever was wrong, “She probably just needs a change.” she sleepily mumbled.

 

David Briggs rose from the bed and pulled his sweat pants up, tying them tight around his waist before rubbing the sleep from his eyes and slipping his house shoes on to head to the bedroom door and down the hall to the nursery.

 

Marisol was kneeling at the side of the crib bawling when he entered, the nightlight by the door giving him a clear path to his daughter.

 

“Hey, what’s all this about, baby?” he asked her quietly as he approached the crib and gently stroked her hair.

 

Marisol sniffled and gurgled an unintelligible reply as the side of the crib was lowered and she was lifted out to clutch to her father’s bare chest as her legs wrapped around his waist.

 

David grunted as he shifted his daughter to a more comfortable position and recovered the dangling pacifier that was clipped to her pajamas, inserting it into her mouth to quiet her as he moved to the rocking chair in the corner and sat down with her on his lap, smiling as she rested her head on his shoulder as she noisily sucked her pacifier. He kept an eye on ‘Berto, not wanting the boy to wake and try and crawl out of the crib and get hurt, but the mound of covers where he was still sleeping hadn’t stirred yet as far as he could tell.

 

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” he asked his daughter as he began to rock the chair softly with his body.

 

Marisol was quieting down, her sniffles and whimpers barely audible now.

 

He sighed, “You know,” he said as he rubbed her arm softly, “I fought your mother about all of this.” he told her, “Your brother never was going to make anything of himself, we both knew that, and much as I’d prefer not having to wipe his butt and nose until the end of time, it’s not much of a difference from how he was before.” he explained, noting that Marisol’s eyelids were looking heavy and her breathing had slowed signaling that she’d be back to sleep sooner than later. “You on the other hand,” he said with a pang of sadness, “you were on your way to greatness.” he told her, “Maybe you’ll recover and pick up where you left off, baby, but at least you’ll be alive to have a chance to do so because of what we did.” he explained.

 

She was asleep again, her pacifier moving rhythmically as little snores came from her.

 

He kissed her forehead, “I hope you can forgive us for taking so much from you, Mari.” he whispered as he hefted her back up and carried her back to the crib to lay her down and tuck her in beside her brother before putting the side of the crib back up and sneaking back out of the room and back to bed.

 

Rosario stirred as he climbed back into bed and spooned her, his arm draping over her midsection, “She okay?” she dreamily asked.

 

David kissed his wife’s bare back and nodded, “As okay as she can be.” he told her.

 

With the rest of the family asleep and the house quiet once more, David lay with his wife and prayed that one day things would be back to normal for them all and added a prayer for the strength to deal with things if they didn’t.

 

**********

 

“Bunnies or flowers?” Marcus asked his sister.

 

Keisha lay on the changing table, her overnight diaper replaced with her training panties beneath her gray leggings, one leg crossed over the other as her brother held up her choice of socks for the day, cream colored with smiling bear heads or purple with yellow flowers adorning them.

 

She drew out a prolonged ‘um’ and finally pointed to the purple socks.

 

Marcus nodded and put the bear socks back in the drawer beneath wear she lay and slipped one sock on her dangling foot and did the same with the other once she switched her legs around. Helping her to sit up, he lifted her off the table and set her down before smoothing out her clothes and checking her hair one more time, “I think you’re all set!” he declared.

 

She felt pretty standing in front of her big brother, happy that he’d let her pick out her clothes for the day as she admired her purple and black striped shirt that had a built in ring of frilly cloth around the waist so she almost had a tutu on. He’d gotten better at doing her hair too, the twin puffs bunched on either side of her head made her giggle as she looked at herself in the mirror after he’d done them for her, “Thank you, big brother.” she said sweetly, hugging him tightly.

 

A shower, Tylenol, and coffee had all but eradicated his hangover, and he was firing on all cylinders as her guardian after waking on the couch to find her playing quietly in a dangerously close to leaking diaper that he apologized for leaving her in repeatedly as he gave her a bath after his shower, moving her and her toys to a towel on the bathroom floor to be sure the carpet stayed clean.

 

Sunday used to be for church, but since their mother’s passing, Marcus hadn’t been inclined to devote time to anything more than honoring their mother’s memory and looking after Keisha. Sunday’s were now for Keisha to go to daycare while he ran errands for the week, and he felt bad for looking so forward to dropping her off, but after everything that had happened with Marisol, he wasn’t in the best headspace to give his sister the care and attention she needed.

 

Catering to Talc users or addicts, the daycare center was set up for adults that functioned like babies or small children either while high or as a result of prolonged use of the drug and was currently part of the proposition on the ballot that would grant them federal funding rather than the donations they were currently running on and allow them to stay open and expand their operation to assist more people in need.

 

Holding his sister’s hand, Marcus walked down the sidewalk with her the few blocks to the daycare center.

 

“Miss Ariel said I could do finger paint today!” Keisha happily chirped.

 

Marcus nodded, “Don’t forget to ask to go potty.” he reminded her, knowing the majority of her daytime accidents came when she was playing or otherwise engrossed.

 

“I know!” she told him as though it was an outlandish thing to remind her of.

 

He smiled, “Is Alex going to be there today?” he asked her.

 

His sister shuffled her steps awkwardly and shrugged, “I dunno, why?” she asked.

 

He parroted her shrug, “Well, I know how much you like her and-” he started to say.

 

“I do not!” she snapped, grumping up at him, “She’s just real smart and funny and-” she trailed off.

 

He stopped walking and knelt down in front of his sister, “And pretty.” he said.

 

She chewed her bottom lip, “And pretty.” she agreed reluctantly.

 

He’d been trying to encourage his sister to embrace her feelings in the hopes that it would aid her rehabilitation, and she’d made great strides, but she still didn’t quite grasp the concept of romantic feelings versus friendly feelings, and as surprised as he was that his sister seemed to have romantic feelings for another woman, he’d seen more of the old her since she’d met the girl at daycare.

 

He rose and continued walking with her, “I’d just hate for you to have an accident in front of her and be embarrassed.” he said.

 

She giggled, “Alex still wears diapers all the time.” she told him, “She’s not a big girl like me.” she said proudly.

 

He squeezed her hand, “Well, maybe you can be a big helper and show her how to be a big girl like you.” he offered.

 

The idea set her imagination alight as they walked and she swelled with pride and accomplishment at being such a big girl, forgetting that her pacifier and stuffed bunny lay in her princess backpack she toted with her along with a change of pants, two additional pairs of training pants and two diapers should the worst case scenario unfold during the day.

 

**********

 

Rosario cleaned the kitchen after breakfast while David cleaned the kids, the floor beneath the highchairs sticky with syrupy crumbs of pancake as were the trays of the highchairs and the bibs left on them.

 

The trip to the zoo had worn her completely out, the only saving grace being that Marisol, syncing up with her brother surprisingly fast, had messed her diaper shortly after ‘Berto, sending Rosario down the path to catch up to Scott and Robert as they headed to the bathrooms. She’d been in the process of getting the changing supplies set up when Scott had left the family stall with Robert beaming proudly and Scott praising him for being a big boy, and Scott had helped her out by lifting both her kids from the stroller one at a time and putting them back in once she’d changed them.

 

Her husband had assured her that he’d never make her handle both of them together after she came home almost in tears she was so tired, and he’d lived up to his promise so far, getting up to deal with Marisol, feeding her while his wife fed ‘Berto, and offering to give them a bath once they were fed.

 

“’Berto, sit still, buddy.” David chided his wiggly son as he tried to wash him.

 

Marisol giggled from her place behind her brother in the tub, her hands gently rubbing her bare breasts.

 

“Mari, no, baby.” David told her, pulling her hands away.

 

He sighed wearily and stretched his back, remembering this chore being difficult enough when the kids were actual babies, but now that they were grown, it was nearly impossible to handle the two of them at the same time, something he felt he needed to apologize for putting on his wife’s shoulders again.

 

Marisol’s giggles stopped abruptly, “Papi?” she asked, clearly and coherently.

 

David’s attention turned to her and he saw the understanding in her eyes mixed with the worry on her face, “Mari, baby, it’s okay.” he said softly, “Just breathe, this will pass.” he reassured her.

 

She looked around, unsure how she’d ended up in the tub with her brother being bathed by her father, but she didn’t have long to think about it as her thoughts slipped away like the bubbles in the water popping and she was back to being a baby again, burbling happily as she smacked at the water and giggled.

 

David breathed a sigh of relief and kissed her forehead.

 

“Everything okay?” Rosario asked from behind him.

 

He turned to look at her and nodded, “She had a moment of her old self.” he told her.

 

Rosario hurried to the side of the tub, “What happened?” she asked, stroking her daughter’s hair.

 

“She was looking around and clearly confused, but I saw her eyes, she was in there.” he explained.

 

Rosario sighed, “Maybe we should give her another dose?” she suggested, sounding unsure.

 

David shook his head, “I don’t want to kill that part of her.” he said, “I just worry that she’ll hurt herself if she comes back and tries to run or something.” he explained.

 

Rosario nodded, “Should I see if M-A-R-C-U-S would come visit?” she asked.

 

Another head shake, “That could make it worse.” he said, “We’ll watch them together and keep an eye out for any signs that she’s coming back.” he explained.

 

The water bubbled as ‘Berto farted and both kids giggled.

 

“Or we could get a couple of nanny’s with the money they gave us.” she offered.

 

David rolled his eyes, “That money is for after all of this is done.” he reminded her, “To undo all of this.” he added.

 

“If we can.” she said grimly.

 

He sighed, “If we can.” he agreed.

 

**********

 

“Good morning, Keisha!” the heavyset woman running the counter at the daycare cooed when the pair entered.

 

Keisha waved excitedly, “Good morning, Miss Ariel!” she chirped as Marcus helped her get her backpack and coat off.

 

“Alex’s parents just dropped her off,” the woman explained as she took the bag and coat from Marcus and hung them on the cubby hook behind her with Keisha’s name written on a slip of paper in a placard, “would you like to be a big helper and see if she’s awake yet and give Miss Janine a hand with her?” she asked.

 

Keisha nodded and turned to run into the daycare before stopping herself and throwing her arms around her brother’s waist, kissing his cheek when he knelt down to hug her back, and then ran off giggling happily.

 

They watched her go, both smiling, but Miss Ariel’s smile faded when she turned back to Marcus, “This isn’t a hotel, Marcus.” she said sternly.

 

He sighed, “I know, Ariel.” he said, “I’ve had a lot going on recently but everything has been settled and I’m going to be more present from now on.” he assured her.

 

She folded her arms across her chest, “Show me, don’t tell me.” she said, “Your sister needs you to be there for her, to teach her and re-raise her, not spend the night here with me because you’re God knows where doing God knows what.” she continued.

 

He nodded, “I know.” he agreed, “Believe me, it won’t happen again.” he said.

 

She nodded, “If it does, I’ll have to report you, and they might take her away.” she warned.

 

He gritted his teeth and forced a smile, “I appreciate your concern, Ariel.” he said politely.

 

“Also,” she said as he turned to leave, “spend more time on her potty training,” she said, “I don’t know how successful she is at home, but here she’s getting really close to us having to insist she go back to diapers when she’s here.” she explained.

 

Another heavy sigh, “Give her a break, Ariel, she’s been through a lot.” he said.

 

Ariel’s expression changed immediately, her anger no longer contained, “And the other people here haven’t?!” she snapped, “Alex, the one she’s checking on right now, her parents are this close,” she said, holding her fingers up with barely any space between them, “to dumping her here permanently.” she said, “Howie’s wife is drawing up divorce papers and won’t let their kids see him any more,” she continued, “Sierra’s son died in a car accident last week and she’s so far gone she doesn’t even know she had a son.” she explained. “Your shit isn’t more important, Marcus, so don’t act like it is!” she snapped.

 

He nodded, “I’m sorry, you’re right.” he said.

 

“Be here to pick her up before five or I’m making that call.” she warned.

 

“Yes, ma’am.” he said sincerely, “For what it’s worth, this place has saved our lives.” he said.

 

She sighed, “Hopefully we can stay open and continue to help.” she said, looking past him at a heavyset man leading a younger woman in by the hand, “Good morning, Hannah!” she chirped to the sleepy looking young woman still in her pajamas, clutching a stuffed bear and suckling on a pacifier.

 

Marcus moved aside and to the door, finding himself amazed despite all he’d seen and done recently at how commonplace all this Talc stuff seemed to be now, and then he thought about Marisol and pushed her from his mind as he stepped outside.

 

“Vote ‘yes’ on Prop Four.” a woman said as she shoved a flier into his hand as soon as he exited the daycare.

 

He vaguely grunted a reply as he looked at the paper and read some of the information on it, his focus dialing in on one of the bullet points, ‘federal funding for programs to help Talc affected citizens and their families’. Over the years he’d filmed hundreds of reports about corrupt politicians pocketing money for low income housing or other programs and using cheap materials to do a half assed job because poor people weren’t a priority, but what if something similar was happening with Talc and the people it affected, what if this thing he and Marisol’s parents had been forced to go along with was to keep the news from digging into the proposition and possibly causing the deal to fall through? The kind of money he’d been given didn’t come from some random person, it had to come from someone with enough to move it around without raising eyebrows but also have enough power to ensure threats could be followed through on if need be.

 

He grimaced as he pulled out his phone and started to text Rosario, but stopped, worried that he’d be putting Marisol and her family in danger if he did. He sighed and put his phone away and tried to think of a way he could look into his hunch and not raise any red flags.

 

‘Town hall meeting tonight at 8PM’ the flier said at the bottom.

 

He texted Ms. Rollins.

 

Marcus: Can you watch Keisha tonight while I go to this townhall about Prop 4?

 

He waited a minute or two and his phone chimed.

 

Ms. Rollins: Of course, honey, just let me know when you need me to come over so you can get to it

 

He thanked her and calmed his racing thoughts, collecting them into something resembling order and coherence as he thought of the questions he’d ask to try and get some answers that might fix some of the damage he’d caused.

 

To Be Continued….